
p 



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Class 
Book 



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Copyright N°_ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA 



FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

BY 
CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON 

Each one volume, large 1 2mo, Illustrated, 
$1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 
FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 
FAMOUS SCOUTS 
FAMOUS PRIVATEER5MEN 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 




From " The Army and Navy of the United States." 

■■ AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE Sl'LlNTEKS FLY.' 

{See fagc 273.) 



Famous Privatecrsmcn 

AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA 

Their rovin^s, cruises, escapades, and 

fierce battling upon the ocean 

for patriotism and for 

treasure 



By 
CHARLES H.L. JOHNSTON 

Author of " Famous Cavalry Leaders," " Famous 
Indian Chiefs," " Famous Scouts," etc. 



Illustrated 




BOSTON L. C. PAGE & 
COMPANY-?- MDCCCCXI 



> 






Copyright, igji 

By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 



All rights reserved 



First Impression, November, 1911 



El e c I r ot y p e d and Printed by 
THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. E. Simonds &• Co., Boston, U. S. A. 



©CI.A30()540 



I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF 

Cgporgp Alfrri Hfrntg 

THE MOST STIMULATING AUTHOR OF BOOKS FOR BOYS 
THAT THE PAST HALF CENTURY HAS PRODUCED, 
AND A WRITER WHO HAS KEPT ALIVE THE 
SPIRIT OF MANLY SPORT AND ADVENTURE 
WHICH HAS MADE THE ANGLO-SAXON 
PEOPLE A RACE OF WORLD CON- 
QUERORS. MAY THEY NEVER 
RETROGRADE I 



Thanks are due the Librarian of Congress, 
and particularly to Mr. Roberts of the Depart- 
ment of Prints, for numerous courtesies ex- 
tended to the author during the compilation of 
this volume. 



PREFACE 

My dear Boys : — The sea stretches away from the 
land, — a vast sheet of unknown possibihties. Now 
gray, now blue, now slate colored, whipped into a thou- 
sand windrows by the storm, churned into a seething 
mass of frothing spume and careening bubbles, it 
pleases, lulls, then terrorizes and dismays. Perpetually 
intervening as a barrier between peoples and their 
countries, the wild, sobbing ocean rises, falls and roars 
in agony. It is a stoppage to progress and contact be- 
tween races of men and warring nations. 

In the breasts of all souls slumbers the fire of ad- 
venture. To penetrate the unknown, to there find 
excitement, battle, treasure, so that one's future life 
can be one of ease and indolence — for this men have 
sacrificed the more stable occupations on land in order 
to push recklessly across the death-dealing billows. 
They have battled with the elements; they have suf- 
fered dread diseases ; they have been tormented, with 
thirst; with a torrid sun and with strange weather; 
they have sorrowed and they have sinned in order to 
gain fame, fortune, and renown. On the wide sweep 
of the ocean, even as on the rolling plateau of the once 
uninhabited prairie, many a harrowing tragedy has 
been enacted. These dramas have often had no chron- 
icler, — the battle was fought out in the silence of the 

vu 



viii PREFACE 

watery waste, and there has been no tongue to tell of 
the solitary conflict and the unseen strife. 

Of sea fighters there have been many : the pirate, the 
fillibusterer, the man-of-warsman, and the privateer. 
The first was primarily a ruffian and, secondarily, a 
brute, although now and again there were pirates who 
shone by contrast only. The fillibusterer was also en- 
gaged in lawless fighting on the sea and to this service 
were attracted the more daring and adventurous souls 
who swarmed about the shipping ports in search of 
employment and pelf. The man-of-warsman was the 
legitimate defender of his country's interests and 
fought in the open, without fear of death or imprison- 
ment from his own people. The privateersman — a 
combination of all three — was the harpy of the rolling 
ocean, a vulture preying upon the merchant marine of 
the enemy to his country, attacking only those weaker 
than himself, scudding off at the advent of men-of- 
warsmen, and hovering where the guileless merchant- 
man passed by. The privateersman was a gentleman 
adventurer, a protected pirate, a social highwayman of 
the waters. He throve, grew lusty, and prospered, — 
a robber legitimized by the laws of his own people. 

So these hardy men went out upon the water, sailed 
forth beneath the white spread of new-made canvas, 
and, midst the creaking of spars, the slapping of ropes, 
the scream of the hawser, the groan of the windlass, 
and the ruck and roar of wave-beaten wood, carved out 
their destinies. They fought. They bled. They con- 
quered and were defeated. In the hot struggle and the 
desperate attack they played their parts even as the old 



PREFACE ix 

Vikings of Norway and the sea rovers of the Mediter- 
ranean. 

Hark to the stories of those wild sea robbers! 
Listen to the tales of the adventurous pillagers of the 
rolling ocean ! And — as your blood is red and you, 
yourself, are fond of adventure — ponder upon these 
histories with satisfaction, for these stalwart seamen 

" Fought and sailed and took a prize 
Even as it was their right, 
Drank a glass and kissed a maid 
Between the volleys of a fight. 
Don't begrudge their lives of danger, 
You are better off by far, 
But, if war again comes, — stranger. 
Hitch your wagon to their star." 

Charles H. L. Johnston. 



The bugle calls to quarters, 

The roar of guns is clear, 

Now — ram your charges home, Lads ! 

And cheer. Boys ! Cheer ! 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface vii 

Carlo Zeno: Hero of the Venetian Republic . . . i 
Sir Francis Drake: Rover and Sea Ranger ... 23 
Sir Walter Raleigh : Persecutor of the Spaniards • • 53 
Jean Bart: The Scourge of the Dutch .... 83 
Du Guay-Trouin: The Great French "Blue" . -113 
Edward England: Terror of the South Seas . . -137 
WooDES Rogers: The Bristol Mariner . . • -153 
Fortunatus Wright: The Most Hated Privateersman 

OF the Mediterranean Sea I73 

George Walker: Winner of the Gamest Sea Fight of 

the English Channel i99 

John Paul Jones : The Founder of the American Navy 239 
Captain Silas Talbot: Staunch Privateersman of New 

England 283 

Captain " Josh " Barney : The Irrepressible Yankee • 299 
Robert Surcouf: The "Sea Hound" from St. Malo . 319 

Lafitte : Privateer, Pirate, and Terror of the Gulf of 

Mexico 34i 

Rapihael Semmes: Despoiler of American Commerce . 373 

El Capitan 393 

Retrospect 397 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



" Again the cannon made the splinters fly " 

(See page 27s) Frontispiece ^^ 

Zeno's Fleet 18 1^ 

Sir Francis Drake 28 1/ 

Drake's Greatest Victory on the Spanish Main . . 44 1/ 
Young Raleigh and a companion listening to tales of . 

THE Spanish Main 55 ^ 

Sir Walter Raleigh 60 ^^ 

Jean Bart 86 "^ 

" Jean Bart led his boarders over the side of the Dutch 

vessel " B08 ^ 

Combat between Du Guay-Trouin and Van Was- 

senaer ^TiS''^' 

" ' Left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman , 

ENEMIES ' " 146 

" The boarders were repiulsed with great slaughter " • 193 i/" 

Action between the " Glorioso " and the "King George" 

AND "Prince Frederick" under George Walker • 231 

American Privateer taking possession of a Prize . . 239 ■-'^ 

" Began to hull the ' Drake ' below the water-line " 261 ■ ^ 

" They swarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce 

cheers" 277- 

" Talbot, himself, at the head of his entire crew, came 

leaping across the side" 289 '' 

American Privateer capturing two English Ships • 298 " 

" Surcouf scanned her carefully through his glass" 336 

Raphael Semmes 376 ^ 

"The men were shouting wildly, as each projectile / 

took effect " 386 



CARLO ZENO 
HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC 

(1344- 1418) 



Paradise is under the shadow of swords." — Mahomet. 



Famous Privateersmen 

AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA 



CARLO Z.ENO 

HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC 

(1344-141S) 

Zeno, noble Zeno, with your cnrions canine name, 

You shall never lack for plaudits in the golden hall of fame, 

For you fought as well with galleys as you did with burly men, 

And your deeds of daring seamanship are writ by many a pen. 

From sodden, gray Chioggia the singing Gondoliers, 

Repeat in silvery cadence the story of your years, 

The valor of your comrades and the courage of your foe. 

When Venice strove with Genoa, full many a year ago. 

THE torches fluttered from the walls of a burial 
vault in ancient Venice. Two shrouded figures 
leaned over the body of a dead warrior, and, 
as they gazed upon the wax-like features, their eyes 
were filled with tears. 

" See," said the taller fellow. " He has indeed led 
the stalwart life. Here are five and thirty wounds upon 
the body of our most renowned compatriot. He was 
a true hero." 

" You speak correctly, O Knight," answered the 
other. " Carlo ZenO' was the real warrior without fear 

3 



4 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and without reproach. He has fared badly at the hands 
of the Repubhc. But then, — is this not Hfe ? Those 
most worthy seem never to receive their just com- 
pensation during their hving hours. It is only when 
they are dead that a tardy public gives them some rec- 
ognition of the great deeds which they have done, the 
battles which they have fought, and the honor which 
they have brought to their native land. Alas! poor 
Zeno ! He — the true patriot — has had but scant 
and petty praise." 

So saying the two noble Venetians covered the pros- 
trate form of the dead warrior — for they had lifted 
the brown robe which enshrouded him — and, with 
slow faltering steps, they left the gloomy chamber of 
death. 

Who was this Venetian soldier, who, covered with 
the marks of battle, lay in his last sleep? Who — this 
hero of war's alarms? This patriotic leader of the 
rough-and-ready rovers of the sea? 

It was Carlo Zeno, — a man of the best blood of 
Venice, — who, commanding fighting men and fight- 
ing ships, had battled strenuously and well for his 
native country. 

The son of Pietro Zeno and Agnese Dandolo, this 
famous Venetian had been well bred to the shock of 
battle, for his father was for some time Governor of 
Padua, and had won a great struggle against the 
Turks, when the careening galleys of the Venetian 
Squadron grappled blindly with the aggressive men of 
the Ottoman Empire. There were ten children in the 
family and little Carlo was named after the Emperor 



CARLO ZENO 5 

Charles IV, who sent a retainer to the baptism of the 
future seaman, saying, " I wish the child well. He 
has a brave and noble father and I trust that his future 
will be auspicious." 

Little Carlo was destined for the Church, and, with 
a Latin eulogium in his pocket (which his Venetian 
school-master had written out for him) was sent to 
the court of the Pope at Avignon. The sweet-faced 
boy was but seven years of age. He knelt before the 
prelate and his retainers, reciting the piece of prose 
with such precision, grace, and charm, that all were 
moved by his beauty, his memory, his spirit, and his 
liveliness of person. 

" You are indeed a noble youth," cried the Pope. 
" You shall come into my household. There you 
shall receive an education and shall be a canon of the 
cathedral of Patras, with a rich benefice." 

But little Carlo did not remain. Although dressed 
like a mimic priest and taught with great care, the 
hot blood of youth welled in his veins and made him 
long for a life more active and more dangerous. So 
he looked about for adventure so thoroughly that he 
was soon able to have his first narrow escape, and a 
part in one of those many brawls which were to 
come to him during his career of war and adventure. 

Sent by his relations to the University of Padua, 
he was returning to Venice from the country, one 
day, when a man leaped upon him as he walked down 
a narrow road. 

" Who are you ? " cried Carlo fearfully. 

But the fellow did not answer. Instead, — he 



6 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

struck him suddenly with a stout cudgel — knocked 
him senseless on the turf, took all the valuables which 
he had, and ran silently away into the gloom. 

Little Carlo came to his senses after many hours, 
and, staggering forward with weakened steps, reached 
Mestre, where kind friends dressed his wounds. 

" I shall catch this assailant," cried he, when he had 
revived. " He shall rue the day that he ever touched 
the person of Carlo Zeno." iVnd forthwith he secured 
a number of bloodhounds with which to track the 
cowardly ruffian of the highway. 

Luck w-as with the future commander of the galleons 
and fighting men. He ran the scui-vy assailant to 
earth, like a fox. He captured him, bound him and 
handed him over to the justice of Padua, — where — 
for the heinousness • of the offense — the man was 
executed. So ended the first conflict in which the 
renowned Carlo Zeno w^as engaged, — successfully — 
as did most of his later battles. 

Not long afterwards young Zeno returned to his 
studies at the University, but here — as a lover of 
excitement — he fell into bad company. Alas ! he 
took to> gambling, and frittered away all of his ready 
money, so that he had to sell his books in order to 
play. The profit from these was soon gone. He was 
bankrupt at the early age of seventeen. 

Ashamed to go home, the future sea rover dis- 
appeared from Padua and joined a fighting band of 
mercenaries (paid soldiers) who w^ere in the employ 
of a wealthy Italian Prince. He was not heard of for 
full five years. Thus, his relatives gave him up for 



CAELO ZENO 7 

dead, and, when — one day — he suddenly stalked 
into the house of his parents, his brothers and sisters 
set up a great shout of wonder and amazement. 
" Hurrah ! " cried they, " the dead has returned to his 
own. This is no ghost, for he speaks our own native 
tongue. Carlo Zeno, you shall be given the best that 
we have, for we believed that you had gone to another 
world." 

Pleased and overwhelmed with affection, young 
Carlo stayed for a time with his family, and then — 
thinking that, as he had been trained for the priest- 
hood, he had best take charge of his canonry of Patras 
— he went to Greece. 

" Hah ! my fine fellow," said the Governor, when 
he first saw him, " I hear that you are fond of fighting. 
It is well. The Turks are very troublesome, just now, 
and they need some stout Venetian blood to hold them 
in check. You must assist us." 

" I'll do my best," cried Zeno with spirit, and, he 
had not been there a week before the Ottomans 
swooped down upon the city, bent upon its demolition. 
The young Venetian sallied forth — with numerous 
fighting men — to meet them, and, in the first clash of 
arms, received such a gaping wound that he was given 
up for dead. In fact, when carried to the city, he was 
considered to be without life, was stretched upon a 
long settee, was clothed in a white sheet, and prepared 
for interment. But in the early morning he suddenly 
opened his eyes, gazed wonderingly at the white shroud 
which covered him, and cried, with no ill humor, 

" Not yet, my friends. Carlo Zeno will disappoint 



8 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

all your fondest hopes. Once more I am of the 
world." 

And, so saying, he scrambled to his feet, much to 
the dismay of the sorrowing Venetians, who had been 
carefully spreading a number of flowers upon the 
prostrate form of the supposedly dead warrior. 

But so weak was the youthful hero that he had to 
be taken to Venice in order to recover. When strong 
again he resumed his studies for the ministry and was 
sent to Patras, a city that was soon threatened by 
an army of twelve thousand Cypriotes and French- 
men. 

" Here, Zeno," cried the Bishop of Patras to the 
virile young stripling. " We have seven hundred 
riders in our city. With this mere handful, you must 
defend us against our enemies. The odds are fifteen 
to one against you. But you must struggle valiantly 
to save our beautiful capital." 

" Aye ! Sire ! " cried the youthful student of church 
history. " I shall do my best to free your capital from 
these invaders. May the God of Hosts be with us! 
My men salute you." 

So saying the valiant youth led his small and ill 
drilled company against the besiegers, and, so greatly 
did he harass his adversaries, that they abandoned the 
enterprise, at the end of six months ; made peace ; and 
retired. 

" Hail to Zeno ! " cried many of the soldiers. " He 
is a leader well worth our respect. Without him the 
great city would have surely fallen. Yea! Hail to 
young Zeno." 



CAELO ZENO 9 

These words of praise reached the ears of a certain 
Greek Knight named Simon, and so roused his envy, 
that he audaciously accused Carlo of treachery, which 
was soon told to the hot-headed young warrior. He 
acted as one would well expect of him. 

" I challenge you to single combat," cried he. " The 
duel shall be fought in Naples under the eye of Queen 
Johanna." 

In vain Carlo's friends besought him to forgive the 
loose-tongued Simon — his patron, the Bishop, ex- 
hausted his eloquence in the endeavor to reconcile the 
two. The hot blood of youth would out. It was fight 
and no compromise. But before the trial, the bold and 
unyielding soldier threw up his position with the 
Church and married a rich and noble lady of Clarenta, 
whose fortune well supplanted the large income which 
he had forfeited by his resignation. 

Now honor called for deeds. Almost immediately 
he was obliged to leave for Naples in order to meet the 
detractor of his valor, and, to his surprise, the Queen 
spoke lightly of the quarrel. " It is a question of law," 
said she. " An inquiry shall be had. There must be 
no bloodshed." 

An inquiry was therefore in order, and it was a 
thorough one. " Simon is in the wrong," said the 
fellow acting as clerk for those sitting upon the case. 
" He must pay all the expenses to which Zeno has 
been put, and there shall be no duel." 

" My honor has been cleared," cried Zeno. " I must 
return to Greece." There — strange as it might seem 
— he was at once named Governor of a province. 



10 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

though not yet twenty-three. Events were going- well 
with him. But his wife died, he was cheated of his 
dowry by her relations, and so he turned once more to 
Venice, — saddened, older and nearly penniless. The 
wheel of fortune had turned badly for this leader of 
fighting men and future general of white-winged 
galleons of the sea. 

But now there was a really good fight — such a 
fight as all true sailors love — a fight which tested the 
grit and courage of Zeno to the full. It was the first 
of those heroic deeds of arms which shed undying 
lustre on his name, and marked him as a seaman of 
the first rank, — a captain of true courage, resources 
and ambition. 

The Genoese (or inhabitants of Genoa) and the 
Venetians, were continually at war in these days, and 
when — in patriotic zeal — Carlo Zeno seized the 
island of Tenedos, the Venetian Senate, fearing lest 
the Genoese would seek to recover the lost possession, 
sent a fleet of fifteen ships to guard it, under one Pietro 
Mocenigo. There were also two other vessels, one 
commanded by Carlo Zeno himself. The mass of 
galleys floated on to Constantinople, for the Greeks 
had allied themselves with the Genoese, had seized a 
Venetian man-of-war, which had been captured, and 
had then retired. Three lumbering hulks were left to 
protect the fair isle of Tenedos, — under Zeno, the 
warlike Venetian. 

" Aha," said a Genoese seaman. " There are but 
three galleys left to save our isle of Tenedos. We 
shall soon take it with our superior force. Forward, 



CARLO ZENO 11 

O sailors ! We'll have revenge for the attack of the 
wild men from Venice." 

"On! on!" cried the Genoese seamen, and with- 
out further ado, twenty-two galleys careened forward, 
their white sails bellying in the wind, their hawsers 
groaning, spars creaking, and sailors chattering like 
magpies on a May morning. 

Carlo Zeno had only three hundred regular soldiers 
and a few archers, but he occupied the suburbs of the 
town and waited for the attackers to land. This they 
did in goodly numbers, for the sea was calm and mo- 
tionless, although it was the month of November. 

" Men ! " cried the intrepid Zeno, " you are few. 
The enemy are as numerous as blades of grass. Do 
your duty! Fight like Trojans, and, if you win, your 
grateful countrymen will treat you as heroes should be 
respected. Never say die, and let every arrow find an 
opening in the armor of the enemy." 

The Genoese came on with shouts of expectancy, 
but they were met with a far warmer reception than 
they had anticipated. The air was filled with flying 
arrows, as, crouching low behind quickly constructed 
redoubts, the followers of the stout-souled Zeno busily 
stretched their bowstrings, and shot their feathered 
barbs into the mass of crowding seamen. Savage 
shouts and hoarse cries of anguish, rose from both 
attackers and attacked, while the voice of Zeno, shrilled 
high above the battle's din, crying : " Shoot carefully, 
my men, do not let them defeat us, for the eyes of 
Venice are upon you." So they struggled and bled, 
until the shadows began to fall, when — realizing that 



12 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

tliey were unable to take the courageous Venetians — 
the Genoese withdrew to their ships. 

There was laughter and song around the camp fires 
of Zeno's little band, that night, but their leader spoke 
critically of the morrow. 

" Sleep well, my men," said he, " for I know that 
our foes are well angered at the beating we have given 
them. Next morn we shall again be at war. Let us 
keep our courage and have as a battle cry, ' Venice ! 
No retreat and no quarter! ' " 

When morning dawned the Genoese were seen to 
land engines of war, with the apparent intention of 
laying siege to the town. Their preparations showed 
that they meant to attack upon the side farthest from 
the castle, so Carlo Zeno — the quick-witted — placed 
a number of his men in ambush, among a collection of 
half-ruined and empty houses which stood in that 
quarter. " Stay here, my men," said he, " and when 
the enemy has advanced, charge them with fury. We 
must win to-day, or we will be disgraced." 

Meanwhile the rest of the Venetians had retreated 
inland, and, crouching low behind a screen of brush, 
waited patiently for the Genoese to come up. " Be 
cautious," cried Zeno, " and when the enemy is within 
striking distance, charge with all the fury which you 
possess." 

"Aye! Aye! Good master," cried the stubborn 
soldiers. " We mark well what you tell us." 

Not long afterwards the attacking party came in 
view, and, without suspecting what lay in front, ad- 
vanced with quick gait towards the supposedly de- 



CARLO ZENO 13 

fenseless town. But suddenly, with a wild yell, the 
followers of Zeno leaped from behind the screening 
bushes, and dashed towards them. At the same in- 
stant, the soldiers who had been placed in hiding, at- 
tacked suddenly from the rear. Arrows poured into 
the ranks of the Genoese, and they fell like wheat be- 
fore the scythe of the reaper. Hoarse shouts, groans, 
and cries of victory and death, welled above the bat- 
tle's din. 

In the midst of this affair Carlo Zeno gave a cry of 
pain. An arrow (poisoned 'tis said) had entered his 
leg and struck him to the ground. But, nothing 
daunted, he rose to cry shrilly to his men. " On ! On ! 
Drive them to the ocean." And, so well did his sol- 
diers follow these commands, that the Genoese fled in 
confusion and disorder to their ships. The day was 
won. 

As was natural, Zeno paid no attention to his wound, 
and, when the enemy hurried to shore the next day 
for another attack, they were greeted with such a ter- 
rific discharge of artillery that they gave up their idea 
of capturing the island and sailed away amidst cries of 
derision from the delighted Venetians. 

" Hurrah ! " cried they. " Hurrah for Zeno ! " But 
so exhausted was the intrepid leader by reason of his 
wound that he fell into a spasm as if about to die. His 
iron constitution pulled him through, however, and 
soon he and the faithful band returned to Venice, 
covered with glory, and full satisfied with their hard 
won victory. 

The daring Zeno was well deserving of praise, for 



14 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

he had beaten a fleet and an army by sheer genius, with 
three ships and a handful of men. To Venice had 
been preserved the valuable island which guards the 
entrance to the Dardanelles, and to her it was to remain 
for years, although the Genoese tried many times and 
oft to wrest it from her grasp. 

Now came another struggle — the war of Chioggia 
— a struggle in which Carlo Zeno played a great and 
noble part, — a part, in fact, that has made his name 
a byword among the grateful Venetians : a part in 
which he displayed a leadership quite equal to that of 
a Drake, or a Hawkins, and led his fighting galleons 
with all the courage of a lion. Hark, then, to the 
story of this unfortunate affair! Hark! and let your 
sympathy be stirred for Carlo Zeno, the indefatigable 
navigator of the clumsy shipping of the Italian pen- 
insula ! 

For years the Republics of Genoa and Venice re- 
mained at peace, but, for years the merchants of the 
two countries had endeavored to outwit each other in 
trade; and, thus, when the Genoese seized several 
Venetian ships with rich cargoes, in 1350, and refused 
to give them up, war broke out between the rival 
Republics. In two engagements at sea, the Venetians 
were defeated ; but in a third they were victorious, and 
forever sullied the banner of St. Mark, which flew 
from their Admiral's mast-head, by causing nearly 
five thousand prisoners of war to be drowned. Fired 
by a desire for immediate revenge upon their foe, the 
Genoese hurried a mighty fleet to sea, and ravaged the 
Italian coast up to the very doors of Venice itself. 



CAELO ZENO 16 

Several other engagements followed, in most of which 
the Venetians were defeated; and then there were 
twenty years of peace before another conflict. 

Finally war broke out afresh. Angry and vindictive, 
the Genoese bore down upon the Venetian coast in 
numerous lumbering galleys, determined— this time — 
to reach Venice itself, and to sack this rich and popu- 
lous city. With little difficulty they captured Chioggia, 
a seaport, a populous city and the key to the lagoons 
which led to the heart of the capital. They advanced 
to the very outskirts of Venice, and their cries of joy- 
ous vindictiveness sounded strangely near to the now 
terrified inhabitants, who, rallying around their old 
generals and city fathers, v^'ere determined to fight to 
the last ditch. 

As winter came, the victoriously aggressive Genoese 
retreated tO' Chioggia, withdrawing their fleet into the 
safe harbor to await the spring; leaving only two or 
three galleys to cruise before the entrance, in case the 
now angered Venetians should attack. But they were 
to be rudely awakened from their fancied seclusion. 

" Lead us on, O Pisani," the Venetians had cried in 
the broad market space of their beloved city. " We 
must and will drive these invaders into their own 
country. Never have we received before such insults. 
On! On! to Chioggia." 

So, silent and vengeful, the Venetian fleet stole out 
to sea on the evening of December twenty-first. There 
were thirty-four galleys, sixty smaller armed vessels, 
and hundreds of flat-bottomed boats. Pisani was in 
the rear, towing two heavy, old hulks, laden with 



16 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

stones, to sink in the entrance of the harbor and bottle 
up the fleet, even as the Americans were to sink the 
Merrimac in the Harbor of Santiago, many years 
afterwards. 

The Genoese were unready. The cruisers, on duty as 
sentinels, were not where they should have been, and 
so the gallant Pisani scuttled the hulks across the har- 
bor entrance and caught the bold marauders like rats 
in a trap. The fleet of the enemy was paralyzed, par- 
ticularly as another river's mouth, some two miles 
southward, was also blockaded. Smiles of satisfaction 
shone upon the faces of the outraged Venetians. 

Carlo Zeno was hurrying up with a strong fleet 
manned by veteran seamen, but the now victorious 
followers of Pisani wished to return to Venice. 

" It is the Christmas season," cried many. " We 
have fought like lions. We have shut up our enemy. 
We have averted the extreme danger. Let us return 
to our wives and our children ! " 

" You cannot go," said Pisani, sternly. " You are 
the entire male population of Venice. Without you the 
great expedition will come to naught, and all of our 
toil will have been thrown away. Only be calm. 
Carlo Zeno will soon be here, and we can then take 
Chioggia ! " 

Alas! Like Columbus, he saw himself upon the 
verge of losing the result of all his labor for lack of 
confidence in him upon the part of his men. He could 
not keep them by force, so wearily and anxiously he 
scanned the horizon for signs of an approaching sail. 

The days went slowly by for the lion-hearted Pisani. 



CARLO ZENO 17 

Carlo Zeno did not come. Day after day the valiant 
leader fearfully looked for the white-winged canvas 
of a Venetian galleon, but none came to view. On the 
thirtieth day of December his men were very muti- 
nous. 

" We will seize the ships and return to-morrow to 
Venice," cried several. " We have had enough of 
war. Our wives and daughters cry to us to return." 

Pisani was desperate. 

" If Carlo Zeno does not come in forty-eight hours, 
the fleet may return to Lido," said he. " Meanwhile, 
keep your guns shooting at the enemy. We must 
make these Genoese feel that we shall soon attack in 
force." 

But Pisani's heart was leaden. Where, yes, where 
was Zeno? New Year's Day came, and, by his prom- 
ise, he must let the Venetians go. What did this 
mean for him? It meant the fall of Venice, the end 
of the Republic, the destruction of the population with 
all that they possessed. He — their idol, their leader 
for ten days — could no longer lead, for the Vene- 
tians could not bear a little cold and hardship for his 
sake. Sad — yes, sad, indeed — was the face of the 
stout seaman as he gave one last despairing glance at 
Ihe horizon. 

Ha! What was that? A thin, white mark against 
the distant blue ! It grew larger and clearer. It was 
the sail of a galley. Another, and another, and an- 
other hove in sight, — eighteen in all, and driving 
along swiftly before a heavy wind. But, were they 
hostile, or friendly? That was the question. Was 



18 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

it Zeno, or were these more galleons of the Genoese? 
Then, joy shone in the keen eyes of Pisani, for the 
banner of St. Mark tiutterecl from the peak of the 
foremost ship, and floated fair upon the morning 
breeze. Hurrah! It was Carlo Zeno, the lion- 
hearted. 

God speed brave Zeno! He had been twice 
wounded in fights along the coast, en route, but noth- 
ing could diminish his energy, or dampen his ardor. 
He had laid waste the Genoese coast; he had inter- 
cepted convoys of grain ; he had harassed the enemy's 
commerce in the East, and he had captured a huge 
vessel of theirs with five hundred thousand pieces of 
gold. Marvellous Zeno! Brave, courageous Vene- 
tian sea-dog, you are just in the nick of time! 

" Thanks be to Heaven that you have come," cried 
Pisani, tears welling to his eyes. " Now we will go 
in and take Chioggia. It means the end of the war 
for us. Again, I say. thanks be to Heaven." 

With renewed hope and confidence the Venetians 
now pushed the siege. Seeing that their fleet could 
never escape, the Genoese started to dig a canal to the 
open sea, by which the boats could be brought off 
during the night. The work was begun, but Carlo 
Zeno discovered it in time. Volunteers were called 
for, a force was soon landed, and, under the leader- 
ship of Zeno, marched to intercept the diggers of this, 
the only means of escape. 

" The Venetians are going towards * Little 
Chioggia,' " cried many of the Genoese. " We must 
hasten there to stop them." 



CARLO ZENO 19 

But Zeno' had only made a feint in this direction. 
Throwing his main force in the rear of the Genoese, 
he soon began to cut them up badly. They were 
seized with a panic. They fled towards the bridge of 
Chioggia, trampling upon each other as they ran, pur- 
sued and slashed to ribbons by Zeno's men. The 
bridge broke beneath the weight of the fugitives and 
hundreds were drowned in the canal, while thousands 
perished near the head of this fateful causeway. It 
was a great and signal victory for Zeno; the intrepid 
sea-dog and campaigner on land. 

This was a death blow. That night some of the 
garrison hastened to desert, and, as the siege pro- 
gressed, the drinking water began to fail, the food 
gave out, and starvation stared the holders of Chioggia 
in the face. On the twenty-fourth of June the city 
surrendered ; and four thousand one hundred and 
seventy Genoese, with two hundred Paduans — 
ghastly and emaciated — more like moving corpses 
than living beings — marched out to lay down their 
arms. Seventeen galleys, also, were handed over to 
the Venetians : the war-worn relics of the once power- 
ful fleet which had menaced Venice itself. 

As a feat of generalship, Pisani's blockade of the 
Genoese fleet is rivalled by Sampson's blockade of 
Cervera's squadron at Santiago in 1898, and the mili- 
tary operation by which Carlo Zeno tempted the gar- 
rison of Brondolo into the trap which he had set for 
them, and drove them, like a flock of sheep into 
Chioggia, by sunset, is surely a splendid feat of arms. 
All honor to this intrepid sea-dog of old Venice ! 



20 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

How fickle is Dame Fortune! Jealous of the repu- 
tation of this noble Venetian, the patricians, whose 
advice, during the war, he had consistently declined to 
follow; refused to make him a Doge of the City. It 
was thought that the election of the bravest captain of 
the day might be dangerous to the Republic. Instead 
of doing him honor, they imprisoned him; and was 
he not the noblest patriot of them all? 

When over seventy years of age, — the greatest and 
truest Venetian — loaned a small sum of money to 
the Prince Carrara, once a power in Venetian politics. 
He had saved his country from destruction. He had 
served her with the most perfect integrity. Yet, he 
reaped the reward which fell to the share of nearly 
every distinguished Venetian ; he was feared by the 
government; hated by the nobles whom he had out- 
stripped in honor, and was condemned to prison by 
men who were not worthy to loose the latchet of his 
shoes. Although he had often paid the mercenary sol- 
diers to fight for Venice, in the War of Chioggia, from 
his own pocket, he was sent to jail for loaning money 
to an unfortunate political refugee. 

When called before the Council of Ten on the night 
of the twentieth of January, 1406, the warrant for his 
examination authorized the use of torture. But even 
the Ten hesitated at this. 

" He is a brave man," said one. " Pray allow him 
to go untouched." 

The prisoner admitted that he had loaned the money. 
His explanation was both honorable and clear. But 
the Ten were obdurate that night. 



CARLO ZENO 21 

" He shall go to the Pozzi prison for a year," said 
they. " Besides this, he shall suffer the perpetual loss 
of all offices which he has held." 

Like a brave man, Carlo Zeno accepted the sentence 
without a murmur, and his sturdy frame did not suffer 
from the confinement. For twelve years longer he 
lived in perfect health ; made a pilgrimage to Jeru- 
salem; commanded the troops of the Republic once 
again ; defeated the Cypriotes, and died peacefully, — 
a warrior with a name of undiminished lustre, most 
foully tarnished by his own compatriots. His is a 
reputation of undying glory, that of his judges is 
that of eternal shame. All honor to Carlo Zeno, the 
valorous Venetian, who could fight a ship as well as a 
squadron of foot soldiers on land ! Salve, Venetia! 

" Dip the banner of St. Mark, 
Dip — and let the lions roar. 
Zeno's soul has gone above, 
Bow — a warrior's life is o'er." 



HARKEE, BOYS! 

Harkee, Boys ! I'll tell you of the torrid, Spanish Main, 
Where the tarpons leap and tumble in the silvery ocean plain. 
Where the wheeling condors circle; where the long-nosed ant- 
bears sniff 
At the food the Jackie " caches " in the Aztec warrior's cliff. 

Oh! Hurray for the deck of a gaUeon si out, 
Hurray for the life on the sea, 
Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' f^ike; 
Wild rovers wc will be. 

Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the men of Morgan's band. 
Of Drake and England — rascals — in the palm-tree, tropic land. 
I'll tell you of bold Hawkins, how he sailed around the Horn. 
And the Manatees went chuck! chuck! chuck! in the sun-baked, 
lazy morn. 

Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout. 
Hurray for the life on the sea. 
Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike ; 
Wild rovers tvc will be. 

Harkee, Boys ! You're English, and you come of roving blood. 

Now, when you're three years older, you must don a sea-man's 
hood, 

You must turn your good ship westward, — you must plough 
towards the land 

Where the mule-train bells go tink! tink! link! and the bend- 
ing cocoas stand. 

Oh! You zvill be off on a galleon stout, 

Oh! You will be men of the sea. 

Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike; 

Wild rovers you will be. 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 
ROVER AND SEA RANGER 

(1540- 1596) 



" The man who frets at worldly strife 
Grows sallow, sour, and thin ; 
Give us the lad whose happy life 
Is one perpetual grin : 
He, Midas-like, turns all to gold, — 
He smiles, when others sigh. 
Enjoys alike the hot and cold. 
And laughs through wet and dry." 

— Drake. 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 

ROVER AND SEA RANGER 
(1540- 1596) 

Sing a song of stout dubloons, 

Of gold and jingling brass, 

A song of Spanish galleons, 

Foul-bottomed as they pass. 

Of roaring blades and stumbling mules, 

Of casks of malmsey, wine, 

Of red, rip-roaring ruffians, 

In a thin, meandering line. 

They're with Drake, Drake, Drake, 

He can make the szvord hilt's shake, 

He's a rattling, battling Captain of the Main. 

You can see the Spaniards shiver, 

As he nears their shelt'ring river. 

While his eyelids never quiver 

At the slain. 

So, — 

Here's to Drake, Drake, Drake, 

Come — make the welkin shake. 

And raise your frothing glasses up on high. 

If you love a man and devil. 

Who can treat you on the level, 

Then, clink your goblet's bevel. 

To Captain Drake. 

" rTTlAKE care, boy, you will fall overboard. 

I Take care and do not play with your brother 

near the edge of our good ship, for the 

water here is deep, and I know that you can swim 

but ill." 

25 



26 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

The man who spoke was a rough, grizzled sea-dog, 
clad in an old jersey and tarpaulins. He stood upon 
the deck of an aged, dismantled war-ship, which — 
anchored in the shallow water near Chatham, Eng- 
land, — swung to and fro in the eddying currents. 
Around him, upon the unwashed deck, scampered a 
swarm of little children, twelve in all, and all of them 
his own. 

" Very good, Father," spoke the curly-haired 
youngster. '* I'll mind what you tell me. You're 
wrong, though, when you say that I cannot swim, for 
I can, even to yonder shore. Do you want to see me 
do it?" 

" Nay, nay," chuckled the stout seaman. " You're 
a boy of courage, Francis. That I can well see. But 
do not try the water. It is cold and you will have 
a cramp and go under. Stick to the quarter-deck." 
And laughing softly to himself, he went below, where 
a strong smell of cooking showed that there was some- 
thing upon the galley stove to feed his hungry crew 
of youthful Englishmen. 

It was surely a strange house to bring up a troop 
of merry children in. The sound of wind and waves 
was familiar to them at night and they grew to be 
strong and fearless. But is not this the proper way 
to rear a sea-dog? 

These little ducklings, descended from a Drake, 
must have early set their hearts upon adventure and 
a seafaring life. In fact, one of them, young Francis, 
was to be one of the best known seamen of the cen- 
turies and knighted for his services to the Crown. 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 27 

Reared in a ship, he, by nature, loved the sea as only 
a child of the ocean could have done. The brine ran 
in his blood. 

Being the son of a poor man, he was apprenticed 
to a master of a small vessel which used to coast along 
the shore and carry merchandise to France and the 
Netherlands. He learned his business well. So well, 
indeed, that at the death of the master of the 
vessel it was bequeathed " to Francis Drake, because 
he was diligent and painstaking and pleased the 
old man, his master, by his industry." But the 
gallant, young sea-dog grew weary of the tiny 
barque. 

" It only creeps along the shore," he said. " I want 
to get out upon the ocean and see the world. I will 
therefore enlist with my stout kinsmen, the Hawkins 
brothers, rich merchants both, who build and sail their 
own ships." 

This he did, and thus began the roving life of 
Francis Drake: dare-devil and scourge of the West 
Indian waters. 

About fifty years before this lusty mariner had been 
born, America was discovered by Christopher Colum- 
bus — an Italian sailor in the service of Spain — and 
this powerful country had seized a great part of the 
new found land. There was no love lost between the 
Spaniards and the men from the cold, northern British 
Isles and thus Francis Drake spent his entire career 
battling with the black-haired, rapacious, and avari- 
cious adventurers who flew the banner of King Philip 
of Arragon. Sometimes he was defeated, more often 



28 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

he was successful. Hark, then, to the tale of his many 
desperate encounters upon the wide waters of the 
surging Atlantic, 

Drake had said, " I'm going to sea with the Haw- 
kins and view the world," and, as John Hawkins was 
just about to sail for the West Indies in six ships, the 
youthful and eager mariner was given an opportunity 
to command a vessel called the Judith. The fleet at 
first had good success. Slaves were captured upon the 
African coast and were sold in the West Indies, 
though with difhculty. because the Spaniards had been 
forbidden by their king to trade with the English. 
Laden with treasure and spices, the ships were about 
to start for home, when fearful storms beset them. 
Their beams were badly shattered. 

" We must seek a haven," cried Hawkins. " Ready 
about and steer for Vera Cruz, the port of the City 
of Mexico! There we can buy food and repair our 
fleet ! " 

" 'Tis well," cried his men, and, aiming for the 
sheltering harbor, they soon ploughed into the smooth 
water of the bay. But there was consternation among 
the Spaniards of the town. 

" We have treasure here," they whispered to each 
other. " See, those English dogs have come to rob 
us ! We must fight, brothers, and fight hard to keep 
the cruel Islanders away." And they oiled their pis- 
tols and sharpened their cutlasses upon their grind- 
stones. 

But luck was with the inhabitants of Vera Cruz. 
Next morning thirteen careening galleys swept into 




SIK FKAXlIS DRAKE. 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 29 

the quiet waters of the bay and joy shone in the black 
eyes of the Spaniards. 

" It is a Mexican fleet," cried they. " It returns 
with a new Viceroy or Governor, from good King 
Phihp of Spain." And they laughed derisively. 

But in the breasts of Drake and Hawkins there was 
doubt and suspicion. 

" They are sure to attack us," said Hawkins, mov- 
ing among his men. " Let every fellow be upon his 
guard." 

The Spanish were full of bowings and scrapings. 
They protested their deep friendship for the English 
and wished to be moored alongside. 

" We are very glad to see you, English brothers," 
said one. " We welcome you to the traffic and trade 
of the far East." So they peacefully dropped anchor 
near the suspicious men of England, still smiling, sing- 
ing, and cheerfully waving a welcome to the none- 
too-happy sailors. 

" Avast," cried Francis Drake, " and sleep on your 
arms, my Hearties, for to-morrow there'll be trouble, 
or else my blood's not British." He was but a young 
man, yet he had guessed correctly. 

As the first glimmer of day shone in the dim hori- 
zon, a shot awoke the stillness of the morn. Another 
and another followed in rapid succession. Then 
boom! a cannon roared, and a great iron ball buried 
itself in the decking of the Jesus; the flagship of 
gallant Hawkins. 

" We're attacked," cried Drake. " Man the decks! 
Up sails and steer to sea ! Fight as you never fought 



30 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

before! Strike and strike hard for dear old Eng- 
land!" 

But his warning almost came too late, for two 
Spanish galleons ranged alongside and swung grap- 
pling irons into his rigging in order to close with the 
moving vessel. The Englishmen struck at them with 
oars and handspikes, knocking the tentacles of the 
on-coming octopus aside, and, with sails flying and 
shots rattling, the Judith bore towards the open sea. 

The fight was now furious. Two of the English 
ships were sunk and the Jesus, Hawkins' own boat, 
was so badly damaged that she lay apparently helpless 
in the trough of the surging ocean. 

" Back, my Hearties," cried Drake, " and we'll see 
what we can do to save our gallant captain." 

So back they sailed, and, firing their little cannon 
with rapidity, soon held off the Spanish ship which 
threatened Hawkins himself with capture. Some of 
the English sailors jumped into their boats and rowed 
away, some gave in to the Spaniards, and some fought 
relentlessly. Thus raged the battle until the evening. 

As night fell, Drake ordered the Judiih to put to 
sea, Hawkins followed, and wandering about in these 
unknown parts, with little water and a scarcity of 
food, hunger forced the weary sailors to eat hides, 
cats, dogs, mice, rats, parrots and monkeys. 

" It was the troublesome voyage," wrote Hawkins, 
and such, indeed, it had proved to be. Some of the 
sailors asked to be placed on land rather than risk 
shipwreck and stan^ation in the overcrowded boat. 
Some of them reached England after years of suf- 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 31 

fering and weary journeying to and fro. Some were 
captured by the Spaniards and were put to death as 
heretics. A few were sent to the galleys as slaves. 
Others, more fortunate, were rowed ashore to serve 
in monasteries, where the monks made kind and gentle 
masters. 

And what of the youthful and danger-loving 
Drake? Five days before the wind-swept Jcsiis strug- 
gled into Plymouth harbor with Hawkins and a fam- 
ine-driven crew, Drake and his own adventurous Eng- 
lishmen steered the little Judith to the rocky headland 
which hides this sheltering refuge from the fury of 
the sea. 

" I am indeed right glad to reach Merrie England 
again," said he, " for we have had a rough and dan- 
gerous voyage. The Spaniards are treacherous dogs. 
They betrayed us, and henceforth I, for one, shall 
show them no quarter." 

So saying he journeyed to London to see the good 
Queen Elizabeth. 

" It is impossible for me to wage war upon Philip 
of Spain," said the valiant Mistress of England's des- 
tinies, when she heard his story of loss of kinsmen, 
friends and goods of great value. " I have a poor 
country. The navy of my fathers has been ruined. I 
have no proper army with which to avenge the treach- 
ery of Spain, and I have trouble with both France 
and Scotland. If you would have revenge, take mat- 
ters into your own hands." 

" Philip is the mightiest monarch in the world to- 
day," answered the well-bronzed mariner, bowing low. 



32 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" I am only a humble seafarer without either ships 
or money, but, most gracious Majesty, I am going 
to help myself in my quarrel with the King of Spain. 
From henceforth there will be war to the death be- 
tween myself and the men of the south," 

The good Queen smiled, for she truly loved a valiant 
man. 

" May God be with you," said she. 

It was not long before the danger-loving mariner 
was again headed for the West Indies and the Spanish 
Main, with a crew of seventy-three men and boys. 

" We believe in our leader," said one. " He will 
take us on to fortune and to fame." And this was 
the sentiment of all, for who does not love a voyage 
after gold and treasure ? 

Ploughing relentlessly across the deep, the two ships 
which carried these roving blades, reached the palm- 
clad West Indies in twenty-five days. All were cheer- 
ful and gay, for before them was danger, excitement, 
battle, and Spanish gold. " Lead on, Captain Drake," 
cried one of the men. " We wish to land at Plymouth 
"with our pockets stuffed with Spanish dubloons." 

" I'll take you to the seaport of Nombre de Dios," 
said the bluff sea ranger. " There is gold and silver 
in this spot, and by the hogshead. Furthermore," he 
.added chuckling, " most of it will be in the hold of 
our stout ships, the Pascha and the Swan, before an- 
other moon." 

So the sailors were drilled in attack and sword play, 
while arms were distributed, which, up to now, had 
been kept " very fair and safe in good casks." All 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 33 

were in a cheerful mood, for the excitement of battle 
had begun to stir the hot blood in their veins. 

Late in the afternoon, the pinnaces (which had been 
carried on deck) were launched, and climbing aboard, 
the men of Merrie England set sail for the Spanish 
town. They lay under the shore, out of sight, until 
dark. Then they rowed with muffled oars to the 
shadows of the precipitous cliffs which here jutted 
into the rolling ocean, and quietly awaited the dawn. 

At three in the morning, while the silvery light of 
a half moon was just reddened with the first flush of 
dawn, the eager buccaneers landed upon the sandy 
beach. "Hark!" cried a youth, "We are already 
discovered." 

As he spoke, the noise of bells, drums, and shout- 
ing, came to the startled ears of the invaders. 

" Twelve men will remain behind to guard the pin- 
naces," cried Drake. " The rest must follow me and 
fight even to the last ditch. Forward ! " 

Splitting into two bands, the Englishmen rushed 
through the narrow streets with a wild cheer ringing 
in the silent air. Drake's brother — with a certain 
John Oxenham and sixteen others — hurried around 
behind the King's treasure-house, and entered the 
eastern side of tlie market-place; while Drake, him- 
self, marched up the main street with bugles blowing, 
drums rolling, and balls of lighted tow blazing from 
the end of long pikes carried by his stout retainers. 
The townsfolk were terrified with the din and blaze 
of fire. " An army is upon us," cried many. " We 
must flee for our lives." 



34 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

In spite of this, a goodly number rallied at the 
market-place, where there was a sharp fight. But 
nothing could withstand the onset of the men from 
the fog-swept island, and soon the Spaniards fled, 
leaving two behind who had been captured and held. 

" You must show us the Governor's house," cried 
Drake. " All the treasure is there." 

The two captives obeyed unwillingly, and great was 
the disappointment of the English when they found 
only bars of silver in the spacious mansion. 

"On! To the King's treasure-house!" again 
shouted the bold mariner. " There, at least, must be 
gold and jewels." 

In fact the English were furious with disappoint- 
ment, for, as they reached the Governor's mansion 
(strongly built of lime and stone for the safe keeping 
of treasure) the eager pillagers rushed through the 
wide-open doorway. A candle stood lighted upon the 
top of the stairs. Before the threshold a horse stood 
champing his bit, as if recently saddled for the Gov- 
ernor, himself, while, by the flickering gleam of the 
taper, a huge glittering mass of silver bars was seen 
piled from floor to ceiling. That was all, — no caskets 
of gold or precious stones were to be seen. 

" Stand to your weapons, men ! " cried Drake. 
" The town is full of people. Move carefully to the 
King's treasure-house which is near the waterside. 
There are more gold and jewels in that spot than all 
our pinnaces can carry." 

As the soldiers hurried where he led, a negro called 
Diego, rushed panting from the direction of the shore. 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 35 

" Marse Drake ! Marse Drake ! " he wailed. " De 
boats am surrounded by de Spanish. Dey will sholy 
be captured if you do not hurry back. Fo' de Lohd's 
sake, Massa, come down to de sho'." 

" My brother and John Oxenham will hasten to the 
shore," cried Drake. " Meanwhile, my Hearties, come 
batter down the doorway to this noble mansion. You 
are at the mouth of the greatest treasure-chest in the 
world." 

As the valiant captain spoke these words, he stepped 
forward to deal a blow, himself, at the stout door 
which shut him from the glittering riches. But sud- 
denly he reeled and almost fell. Blood flowed in great 
quantities upon the sand, from a wound in his leg 
which he had received in the furious struggle within 
the market-place. 

" Come, Captain," cried one of his retainers, seizing 
him in his arms. " You must hasten to our pinnaces. 
What brooks this treasure to us when we lose you, 
for, if you live we can secure gold and silver enough 
at any time, but if you die we can find no more." 

" I fear me that I am grievously hurt," sadly spake 
the Captain. " Give me but a drink and then I think 
that I can reach our boats." 

A soldier stooped and bound his scarf about the 
wounded leg of the now weakened leader, and, bear- 
ing him aloft, the little band of adventurers turned 
toward the ocean side. They soon embarked, with 
many wounded besides the Captain, though none were 
slain save one trumpeter. 

Although the surgeons were kept busy in providing 



36 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

remedies and salves for the hurts of the soldiers, their 
main care was for the bold Francis Drake, — leader 
of this desperate expedition in quest of treasure. 

" If we lose you," cried a sailor, " we can scarce get 
home again. But while we enjoy your presence and 
have you in command of us, we can recover enough 
of wealth." 

" Before we left the harbor we took, with little 
trouble, a ship of wine for the greater comfort of our 
company," writes one of the stout soldiers in this 
brave affair. " And though they shot at us from tlie 
town we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals. 
Here we cured our wounded men and refreshed our- 
selves in the goodly gardens which we found there 
abounding with great store of dainty roots and fruit. 
There were also great plenty of poultry and other 
fowls, no less strange and delicate." 

Although unsuccessful — as you see — the brave 
mariners were not daunted, and, after the wounded 
had recovered, a new expedition was determined upon, 
with the purpose of capturing one of the trains of 
mules which carried gold from Vera Cruz to Panama. 
Drake had been joined by numerous Maroons — 
negroes who had escaped from the Spaniards and 
had turned bandits — and these were quite willing and 
ready to aid him in the pursuit of treasure. But be- 
fore the English marauders moved towards the inte- 
rior, they attempted to attack Cartagena, the capital 
of the Spanish Main. 

Sailing into the harbor in front of this prosperous 
town, one evening, they found that the townsfolk had 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 37 

been well warned of their coming; tliey rang their 
bells and fired their cannon, while all of the soldiers 
ranged themselves before the ramparts. 

" Egad," cried Drake, with strange cheerfulness, in 
spite of his disappointment. " They're far too ready 
to receive us. We've got to withdraw." 

So they prowled around the mouth of the harbor, 
captured two ships, outward bound, and roared with 
laughter as they read a letter, written to warn all 
nearby citizens of " that terrible marauder, pirate, and 
butcher, Captain Drake." 

" The Spaniards carry no treasure by land during 
the rainy months," said one of the natives. " You 
must wait for five full moons, if you wish to catch a 
mule train." 

" All right," said Captain Drake. " We'll fortify 
a place of refuge — explore — and await the propi- 
tious moment when we can hope for success." 

Thus they tarried patiently until they heard from 
the Maroons (who ranged the country up and down) 
that a large fleet had arrived from Spain at Nombre 
de Dios. This was glad news. Drake smiled as he 
heard it, and prepared immediately to make a land 
journey to Panama with forty-eight followers, carry- 
ing provisions, arms, and many pairs of shoes, be- 
cause they were to cross several rivers of stone and 
gravel. 

The way lay between great palm trees and through 
cool and pleasant woods where the sturdy Englishmen 
were much encouraged when they heard that there 
stood a great tree, not far from where they were, 



38 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

from which one could see both the North Sea (At- 
lantic) from which they were journeying, and the 
South Sea (Pacific) towards which they were going. 
Finally — upon the fourth day — they came to a very 
steep hill, lying east and west like a ridge, and, at this 
point, Pedro — chief of the Maroons — took Drake 
by the hand, saying, 

" Follow me, O Captain, and I will show you two 
seas at once, for you are in the very centre of this 
country. Behold you stand in the heart of this fertile 
land." 

Looking before him, the lion-hearted adventurer 
saw a high tree in which had been cut many steps, 
so that one could climb to the top. Here was a con- 
venient bower large enough for ten or twelve men to 
seat themselves. Then — without further ado — he 
and the chief Maroon clambered into the spreading 
branches and gazed across the nodding palm tops 
into the dim distance. It was a fair day, and, as the 
Maroons had felled certain trees so that the pros- 
pect might be more clear, upon the delighted vision of 
the Englishman burst the vista of the blue Atlantic 
and shimmering Pacific. 

" I pray Almighty God in all his goodness," cried 
out the adventurous Drake in loud tones of apprecia- 
tion, " that I may have life and leave to sail but once 
an English ship in this mighty ocean of the West! " 

Then he called up the rest of the voyagers, and 
told them of his prayer and purpose. 

" I will follow you by God's grace ! " cried John 
Oxenham, " unless you do not wish my company." 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 39 

Drake smiled good-humoredly, and, with a wave 
of his arm in the direction of the gHstening waters, 
descended to the ground. 

" On, my hearties! " cried he, " and we'll soon bag 
a mule train with its panniers filled with gold." 

The men started forward, singing an old English 
ballad. As they walked through the high pampas 
grass, they began to get glimpses of Panama and the 
low-lying ships in the harbor. They kept silence and 
at length hid themselves in a grove near the high road 
from Panama to Nombre de Dios, while a negro was 
sent into the city as a spy. 

In the afternoon the faithful henchman returned. 

" A certain great man intends to go to Spain by 
the first ship," he said. " He is travelling towards 
Nombre de Dios this very night with his daughter 
and his family. He has fourteen mules, eight of 
which are laden with gold and one with jewelry. 
Two other trains of fifty mules each — burdened with 
food and little silver — will also come up this night." 

The English smiled, and, without more ado, 
marched to within two miles of Vera Cruz, where 
half of them lay down upon one side of the road, 
and half upon the other. They were screened by the 
tall grass ; so well, indeed, that no eye could see them, 
and in an hour's time, to their eager ears came the 
sound of mule trains passing to and fro near Vera 
Cruz, where trade was lively because of the presence 
of the Spanish fleet. All was propitious for a suc- 
cessful attack. 

But misfortune seemed always to follow the bold 



40 FAMOUS PRIVATEEESMEN 

and adventurous Drake. As mischance would have 
it, one of his men called Robert Pike, who had " drunk 
too much brandy without water," was lying close to 
the roadway by the side of a grinning Maroon, and, 
when a well-mounted cavalier from Vera Cruz rode 
by — with his page running at his stirrup — he rose 
up to peer at him, even tliough his companion pulled 
him down in the endeavor to hide his burly form. 

" Sacre Nom de Dieu," cried the traveller. " It 
is a white man! An Englishman!" and, putting 
spurs to his horse, he rode away at a furious gallop 
in order to warn others of the highwayman's position. 

The ground was hard and the night was still. As 
Captain Drake heard the gentleman's trot change into 
a gallop, he uttered a round British oath. 

" Discovered," he muttered, '' but by whose fault 
I know not. We'll await the other trains and mayhap 
we'll have some booty yet." 

The gentleman, in fact, warned the Treasurer, who, 
fearing that Captain Drake had wandered to this hid- 
den thicket, turned his train of mules aside and let 
the others — who were behind him — pass on. Thus, 
by recklessness of one of the company, a rich booty 
was lost, but — as an Englishman has well said, " We 
thought that God would not let it be taken, for likely 
it was well gotten by that Treasurer." 

There was no use repining, for soon a tinkling of 
bells and tread of hoofs came to the eager ears of 
the adventurers, and, through the long pampas grass 
ambled the other two mule trains — their drivers 
snapping the Avhips with little thought of the lurking 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 41 

danger. In a moment they were between the EngHsh 
and hidden Maroons, who — with a wild cheer — 
dashed upon them, surrounded them, and easily held 
them in their power. Two horse loads of silver was 
the prize for all this trouble and hard travel. 

" I never grieve over things past," cried Drake. 
" We must now march home by the shortest route. 
It is certainly provoking that we lost the mule train 
of gold, particularly as we were betrayed by one of 
our own men. Come, soldiers, turn about and re- 
treat to our good ships." 

Half satisfied but cheerful, the soldiers and Ma- 
roons turned towards the coast, and, as they neared 
Vera Cruz, the infantrymen of the town swarmed 
outside to attack the hated men of Merrie England, 
with cries of, " Surrender! Surrender! " 

Drake looked at them scornfully, replying, 

" An Englishman never surrenders ! " 

At this a volley rang out and one of the intrepid 
adventurers was " so powdered with hail-shot that he 
could not recover his life, although he continued all 
that day with Drake's men." But stout Francis blew 
his whistle — the signal for attack — and, with a wild 
cry, the Maroons and English rushed for the black- 
haired and sallow-skinned defenders of the town. 
" Yo Peho ! Yo Peho ! " wailed the half-crazed na- 
tives as they leaped high in the air, and encouraged 
by the presence of the English, they broke through 
the thickets at the town's end and forced the enemy 
to fly, while the now terrified Spanish scurried pell 
mell down the coast. Several of Drake's followers 



42 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

were wounded, and one Maroon was run through 
with a pike, but his courage was so great that he 
revenged his own death ere he died, by slaying a 
Spaniard who opposed him. 

At sunrise the land pirates continued their journey, 
carrying some plunder from Vera Cruz. Some of the 
men fainted with weakness, but two Maroons would 
carry them along until they could again walk, and thus 
— struggling, cursing and singing — the party of 
weary and disappointed marauders neared the place 
where they had left their ship. A messenger was sent 
forward with a golden toothpick to those left behind 
upon the vessel and a request that the ship be brought 
into the narrow channel of a certain river. It was 
done, and when at last the weary plunderers reached 
tlie shore, they gave a mighty cheer as they saw the 
white, bellying sails of their staunch, English vessel. 
Their journey for pelf and jewels had been a 
failure. 

This did not discourage the lion-hearted Drake, 
who declared, with a smile, " We'll yet catch a mule 
train, boys, and one in which the panniers are filled 
with sufificient gold to sink our good ship. Keep your 
hearts bright and I'll gain you enough of treasure to 
house you in peace and comfort in your old age. 
Remember — ' Fortune favors the brave ! ' " He had 
spoken with truth. 

Not long afterwards a French captain appeared, 
whose men were only too eager for a little journey 
ashore after golden mule trains and battle. So a 
party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen Eng- 



SIR FRANCIS DRAIvE 43 

lishmen, and some Maroons, who sailed with a frig- 
ate and two pinnaces, towards a river called Rio Fran- 
cisco — to the west of Nombre de Dios. They landed, 
struck inland, and were soon near the high road from 
Panama to Nombre de Dios, where mule trains passed 
daily — some with food and merchandise — a few 
with golden ingots and bars of silver. 

In silence they mardied along and spent the night 
about a mile from the road, where they could plainly 
hear the carpenters working on their ships — which 
they did at night because of the fierce, torrid sun dur- 
ing the day. Next morning — the first of April, but 
not an April Fool's day by any means — they heard 
sudi a number of bells that the Maroons began 
to chuckle and say, " You will have much gold. 
Yo Peho! Yo Peho! This time we will all be 
rich!" 

Suddenly three mule trains came to view, one of 
fifty long-eared beasts of burden; two of seventy each, 
with every animal carrying three hundred pounds 
weight of silver, amounting to nearly thirty tons. The 
sight seemed almost too good to be true. With a wild 
shout the ambuscaders leaped from their hiding places 
to rush frantically upon the startled drivers. In a 
few moments the train was in possession of Drake 
and his French and half-negro associates, who chuckled 
and grunted like peccaries. 

The leading mules were taken by the heads and all 
the rest lay down, as they always do when stopped. 
The fifteen soldiers who guarded each train were 
routed, but not before they had wounded the French 



44 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

captain most severely and had slain one of the Ma- 
roons. Silver bars and gold ingots were there aplenty. 
They were seized and carried off, while, what was 
not transported, was buried in the earthen burrows 
made by the great land crabs under fallen trees, and 
in the sand and gravel of a shallow river. 

" And now for home," cried a valorous sea farer, 
after a party had returned with a portion of the buried 
treasure, which was divided equally between the 
French and the English. Much of that left in the 
sand crab holes had been discovered by the Spaniards 
— but not all. Thirteen bars of silver and a few 
quoits of gold had rewarded the search of the expect- 
ant voyageurs. 

" Yes," cried all. " Sails aloft for Merrie Eng- 
land ! " So, spreading canvas, the bold adventurers 
were soon headed for the foggy and misty isle from 
which they had come. On Sunday, August ninth, 
1573 — just about sermon time — they dropped an- 
chor in the peaceful harbor of Plymouth. 

" And the news of the Captain's return brought 
unto his people, did so speedily pass over all the 
church, and fill the minds of the congregation with 
delight and desire to see him, that very few, or none, 
remained with the preacher. All hastened to see the 
evidence of God's love and blessing towards the gra- 
cious Queen and country, by the fruit of the gallant 
mariner's labor and success." 

" To God alone," spake an humble citizen of Plym- 
outh, " be the Glory." 

And all echoed these pious sentiments, in spite of 




^ 



S Q 

o 

X o 



H 



w 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 45 

the fact that Drake was a robber, a pirate, and a 
buccaneer. But was he not their own countryman? 

The scene now changes. It is a gray day at Plym- 
outh and anxious faces peer into the street from the 
windows of the low, tiled houses. A crowd has col- 
lected upon the jutting cliffs and all gaze with eager 
eyes towards the ocean. Men speak in hushed and 
subdued voices, for there is trouble in the air. 

Among the knots of keen-eyed English there is one 
small party which seems to be as joyous as a lot of 
school-boys. Five men are playing at bowls, and one 
of them is stout, and well knit, and swarthy visaged 
with long exposure to the elements. He is laughing 
uproariously, when a lean fellow comes running from 
the very edge of those beetling cliffs which jut far out 
into the gray, green Atlantic. 

" Hark'ee, Captain Drake ! " he cries. " Ships are 
in the offing, and many of them too ! It must be the 
fleet of Philip of Spain come to ravage our beauteous 
country ! " 

" Ah, indeed," answers the staunch-figured captain, 
without looking up. " Then let me have one last shot, 
I pray thee, before I go to meet them." 

And so saying, he calmly tosses another ball 
upon the greensward, knocks aside the wooden pins, 
then smiling, turns and strides towards the water- 
side. 

Thus Drake — the lion-hearted — goes out to battle 
with the great Armada of Philip of Spain, with a 
smile upon his lips, and full confidence in his ability 



46 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

to defeat the Spaniards at home as well as on the 
Spanish Main. Let us see how he fared ? 

Smarting with keen anger at Drake and his suc- 
cessful attacks upon his western possessions, Philip — 
the powerful monarch of Spain — determined to 
gather a great fleet together and to invade England 
with a mighty army. 

" That rascally pirate has beaten me at Cadiz, at 
Cartagena, and at Lisbon," the irate king had roared, 
with no show of composure. " Now I will sail against 
him and crush this buccaneer, so that he and his kind 
can never rise again." 

A mighty fleet of heavy .ships — the Armada — 
was not ready to sail until July, 1588, and the months 
before this had been well spent l3y the English in 
preparation for defense, for they knew of the full 
intention of their southern enemy. Shipwrights 
worked day and night. The clamoring dockyards 
hummed with excitement, while Good Queen Bess and 
her Ministers of State wrote defiant letters to the 
missives from the Spanish crown. The cold blood 
of the English — always quite lukewarm in their 
misty, moisty isle — had begun to boil with vigor. 
The Britons would fight valiantly. 

As the lumbering galleons neared the English coast, 
a heavy mist which hid them, blew away, and the men 
of England saw the glimmering water fairly black 
with the wooden vultures of old Spain. The Span- 
iards had come ready to fight in the way in which 
they had won many a brilliant victory; with a horde 
of towering hulks, of double-deckers and store-ships 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 47 

manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, who 
despised big guns and loved a close encounter with 
hand thrusts and push of pike. Like a huge, wooden 
octopus this arrogant fleet of Arragon moved its ten- 
tacles around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of the 
tight little isle. 

" The boats of the English were very nimble and 
of good steerage," writes a Spaniard, " so that the 
English did with them as they desired. And our 
ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of 
those of the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand- 
stroke with them." 

This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern 

— the war ships of the English bore down easily upon 
the heavy-botto.mcd Spanish galleons and fired their 
guns at the hulls of the enemy. 

" Don't waste your balls upon the rigging," cried 
Drake through a trumpet. " Sight low and sink 'em 
if you can. But keep away from the grappling hooks 
so's not to let 'em get hold of you. If they once do 

— you're lost! " 

Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the 
solid shot pumped great holes in the sides of the high 
rocking galleons. Dense clouds of vapor hung over 
the struggling combatants — partly from a sea fog 
which the July sun had not thoroughly burned away, 
and partly from the spitting mouths of the cannon. 
Fire burst from the decks, the roar of the guns was 
intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, the 
guttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the 
wounded and the derisive howls of those maddened 



48 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

by battle. The decks were crimson with blood; sails 
split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through the 
digging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques 
was mingled with the crash of long-barrelled mus- 
kets. 

No men can fight like those who are defending 
their own homes. At Gettysburg, the Army of the 
Potomac — twice beaten in an attack upon the South 
in the enemy's country — struggled as it had never 
done before, — and won. It had nowhere battled as 
when the foe was pushing it back upon its own soil 
and cities. 

So here — no fighters ever bled as did the English 
when the greedy hands of Spain were clutching at 
their shores. The light ships hung near the Span- 
iards at a distance and did not board until spars were 
down and the great rakish hulls were part helpless. 
Then — with a wild cheer — the little galleons — 
often two at a time — would grapple with the enemy 
and board — cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting, and 
handspikes hewing a way through the struggling, 
yellow-faced ruffians of Philip of Arragon. 

While the awful battle raged, fire ships were pre- 
pared on shore and sent down upon the Spanish fleet, 
burning fiercely and painting the skyline with red. 
Some of the large vessels had anchored, and, as these 
terrors approached, they slipped their cables in order 
to escape. Confusion beset the ranks of the boastful 
foe and cheered on the British bull-dogs to renewed 
exertions. 

At six in the evening a mighty cry welled from the 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 49 

British boats. " They fly ! They fly ! " sounded above 
the ruck and roar of battle. 

Yes — it was the truth. Beaten and dismayed, the 
Spanish fleet bore away to the North, while the Eng- 
lish — in spite of the fact that their powder was wet, 
and nearly all spent — '' gave them chase as if they 
lacked nothing, until they had cleared their own coast 
and some part of Scotland of them." The Armada — 
split, part helpless — drifted away from Plymouth, 
and wild cheers of joy came from the deck of the ves- 
sel which carried bold Sir Francis Drake. The great 
battle had been won. 

So crippled were many of the Spanish hulks that 
they were wrecked in stormy weather, off the coast 
of Scotland and Ireland. Not half of those who put 
to sea ever reached Spain again. Many sailors were 
drowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the 
natives of the coast, and some who escaped were put 
to death by the Queen's orders. Fever and sickness 
broke out in the English ships and the followers of 
bold Drake died by hundreds, " sickening one day and 
perishing the next." 

The English vessels, themselves, were in a bad way 

— they had to be disinfected and the men put ashore 

— where the report of the many wrecks and the mas- 
sacre of Spanish soldiers, eased the anxiety of the 
once terrified inhabitants of the tight little isle, and 
made it certain that the Armada would never return. 
Drake and his bold seamen had saved the people of 
Merrie England. Again hats off to this pirate of the 
Spanish Main! 



50 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Safely settled in Buckland Abbey, knighted, hon- 
ored, respected — the hero of the defense of England 
— one would think that Drake would have remained 
peacefully at home to die " with his boots on." But 
not so. The spirit of adventure called to him with 
irresistible force, and again he set out for the Spanish 
Main. He had sailed around the world before his 
grapple with the Armada ; he had harassed the Span- 
iard in an expedition to Lisbon; he was the idol of 
the English. He had done enough — you say. Yes, 
he had done enough — but — like all men who love 
the game of life he wished to have just one more 
expedition in search of gold and adventure, for — by 
nature he was a gambler, and he was throwing the 
dice with Fate. 

So a goodly crew sailed with him again, hoping 
for another raid upon mule trains and cities of treas- 
ure. But alas ! There was to be a different story 
from the others. All the towns and hamlets of the 
Spanish Main had been warned to " be careful and 
look well to themselves, for that Drake and Hawkins 
were making ready in England to come upon them." 
And when the English arrived they found stout de- 
fense and valiant men, nor was a sail seen " worth 
giving chase unto." Hawkins died, many grew ill of 
fever, and finally Drake, himself, succumbed to the 
malarial atmosphere of Panama. He was to remain 
where gold and adventure had first lured him. 

On January the twenty-eighth, 1596, the great cap- 
tain yielded up his spirit " like a Christian, quietly in 
his cabin." And a league from the shore of Porto 



SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 51 

Rico, the mig^hty rover of the seas was placed in a 
weighted hammock and tossed into the sobbing ocean. 
The spume frothed above the eddying- current, sucked 
downward by tlie emaciated form of the famous mari- 
ner, and a soHtary gull shrieked cruelly above the bub- 
bles, below which — upon beads of coral and clean 
sand — rested the body of Sir Francis Drake, rover, 
rogue, and rattling sea ranger. It was his last jour- 
ney. 

" Weep for this soul, who, in fathoms of azure, 
Lies where the wild tarpon breaks through the foam, 
Where the sea otter mews to its brood in the ripples. 
As the peHcan wings near the pahn-forest gloom. 
Ghosts of the buccaneers flit through the branches, 
Dusky and dim in the shadows of eve, 
While shrill screams the parrot, — the lord of Potanches, 
' Drake, Captain Drake, you've had your last leave.' " 



SEA IRONY 

One day I saw a ship upon the sands 

Careened upon beam ends, her tilted deck 

Swept clear of rubbish of her long-past wreck; 

Her colors struck, but not by human hands; 

Her masts the driftwood of what distant strands! 

Her frowning ports, where, at the Admiral's beck, 

Grim-visaged cannon held the foe in check. 

Gaped for the frolic of the minnow bands. 

The seaweed banners in her fo'ks'le waved, 

A turtle basked upon her capstan head; 

Her cabin's pomp the clownish sculpin braved, 

And, on her prow, where the lost figure-head 

Once turned the brine, a name forgot was graved. 

It was " The Irresistible " I read. 

— Heaton. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 
PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS 

(1552-1618) 



All great men have lived by hope." — James Freeman Clarke. 




VOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF THE 
SPANISH MAIN. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 

PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS 

(1552-1618) 

"When the sobbing sea is squally, 
Then, — look out for Walter Raleigh! 
He's the fellow whom Queen Bess is said to love. 
He's a reckless, handsome sailor, 
With a ' Vandyke ' like a tailor. 
He can coo fond words of loving like a dove. 
Faith! I like this gallant rover, 
Who has ploughed the wild seas over, 
Who has passed the grim and wild equator's ring. 
And I cheer, whene'er I view him, 
Por — my Boy — off Spain I knew him 
When he trimmed the Spanish cruisers, like a King." 

— Chant of the Plymouth Dock-Hand. 

BOYS! You have all heard about the Square 
Deal. Well — Here is the story of a man who 
didn't get one. 
Walter Raleigh was a brave man; he was an able 
sea-farer; his younger manhood was spent in the 
midst of the most brilliant Royal Court which England 
has known. He proved his courage and military prow- 
ess in more than one bitterly contested battle-field and 
naval conflict. His love of his own land and his hatred 
of his enemies was ardent. 

He was also a fellow of wit. and, as an author, took 
rank with the great literary lights of the Elizabethan 

55 



56 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Age. He was an adventurer, and, in middle life, as 
well as in old age, braved the great deep and perils of 
savage lands in the magnificent attempt to make dis- 
coveries and to settle English colonies in the New 
World. Chivalrous in actions and feeling; of hand- 
some person ; graceful manners and courtly address ; 
it is no wonder that he had a host of enemies : those 
fellows who couldn't do anything worth while them- 
selves, and wanted to " pull the other fellow down." 
There are plenty of them around, to-day, doing the 
same thing in the same, old way. 

As an Englishman he loved England to such an 
extent, that — upon the return from one of his numer- 
ous voyages — he dropped upon one knee and kissed 
the sand. 

" My men," said he to his followers, " I love this 
land as nothing else on earth ! " 

The hostility of his rivals subjected him to harsh 
ill treatment. It did not dampen his love for 
England. 

The silly caprices of Queen Elizabeth, who — like 
most women — was swayed, not by her reason, but by 
her sentiments, made him suffer imprisonment. Yet, 
it did not dampen his love for England. 

The terrible and bitter dislike of King James — who 
succeeded the Virgin Queen — finally led to his trial 
for treason ; his execution ; and his death. 

Yet, it did not dampen his love for England. 

If England can produce men of such a mold, nowa- 
days, she will continue to be a mighty world power. 

Do you think that you could be as patriotic as Sir 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 57 

Walter Raleigh? Particularly if you were treated as 
lie was treated ? Think it over ! 

One day, the ancient palace of Greenwich, which 
stood on the banks of the Thames — a few miles below 
London — presented a lively and brilliant scene. 
Courtiers, arrayed in gorgeous colors and glittering 
ornaments, walked about, chattering gaily, — like a 
flock of sparrows. Fine, young cavaliers were there, 
attired in rich velvets, sparkling with gems, armed with 
gold-hilted swords. Grave statesmen wandered 
around, — with beards as white as their rufiles. 
Stately dames, with heavy and gaily trimmed trains, 
peered at the beautiful belles, and said : 

" My, isn't she a fright ! " or 

" Goodness, what dreadful manners the Duchess 
so-and-so has ! " 

Just as they do to-day. Times do not change. 

Trumpets blared a fan-fa-rade and lines of soldiers 
gave forth inspiriting sounds, with many musical in- 
struments. There was a stir and flutter in the crowd ; 
and some one called out : 

" She's coming ! Hats ofiF to the Queen ! " 

So all the men took off their hats, — for they were 
courtiers, and it was their business to do so, whenever 
Her Royal Highness came around. Many of them 
didn't like to do it but if they hadn't done so, some 
spy would have cried out " Treason ! " And they 
would have been hustled oflF to the Tower. You just 
bet they took off their hats! 

Descending the broad flight of steps, with proud 



58 FAMOUS PRIVATEER8MEN 

and majestic mien, the tall and slender figure of 
Elizabeth — the maiden Queen of England — was 
seen approaching. 

She was then in the mature ripeness of middle age, 
but she still preserved not a few remnants of the beauty 
of her youth. Fler form was straight and well pro- 
portioned. Her large, blue eyes were yet bright and 
expressive; her complexion was still wonderfully fair 
and smooth. Her well arranged hair was luxuriant 
and was of a light red. A large, fan-like collar i)f 
richest lace rose from her slender neck, above her head 
behind; and her tresses were combed high from her 
forehead. Jewels blazed from her dress. Her attire 
was far more splendid than that of any of the ladies 
of her court. 

As it happened, a heavy shower had just passed over, 
and little puddles of water stood all around upon the 
gravelled paths. Bursting through the fast-vanishing 
clouds, the sun cast its rays upon the trees still dripping 
with glittering drops; and upon the smiling Queen, 
who — surrounded by a gay group of courtiers — set 
forth upon a promenade through the park. She chatted 
affably with all. They tried to make themselves as 
agreeable as possible, for he who was most agreeable 
received the best plums from the Royal Tree. Politics 
haven't changed any since that day. 

The Queen walked on, playing with a beautiful, 
white greyhound, and, pretty soon she came to a muddy 
spot in the path. 

** Zounds ! " said she (or it may have been something 
stronger, for historians say that she could " swear 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 59 

valiantly"). ''Zounds! Now I will spoil my pretty 
shoes ! " 

" And also your pretty feet," interjected a courtier. 
He received a smile for this compliment and the Queen 
mentally made a note of it, — for future use in the 
distribution of Court Favors. 

She hesitated, looked around aimlessly, and stood 
still. 

At this instant a young noble — six feet tall and 
elegantly attired — stepped forward ; and, throwing 
aside his richly embroidered cloak, spread it over the 
muddy pool. 

" Prithee, pass onward ! " said he, bowing low. 

Elizabeth was delighted. 

" Good Walter Raleigh," said she, smiling. " You 
are truly a gallant knight ! " And she tripped gaily 
across the embroidered mantlet. " I will reward you 
right well for this ! " 

But the courtiers, the Ladies, and the Statesmen 
glanced with undisguised envy at the young gallant 
who had so readily pleased their Mistress; and they 
scowled at him as Elizabeth kept him at her side during 
the rest of her promenade. " The Beggar's outdone 
us all! " said one. " Down with him! " 

But they could not down Sir Walter just then. 
After awhile they had " their innings." 

Rough, vain, whimsical Queen Bess was fond of 
handsome, and especially of witty and eloquent young 
men. She grew more attached to Sir Walter Raleigh 
every day. He rapidly rose in power and influence, 
and, as a poet, became well known. His verses were 



60 PAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

read in the luxurious halls of the palace with exclama- 
tions of delight, while the tales of his military exploits 
were eagerly repeated from mouth to mouth; for 
Raleigh had fought valiantly in France and had helped 
to suppress an insurrection in Ireland. 

And still the jealous courtiers murmured among 
themselves. 

Raleigh was appointed " Warden of the Stanneries," 
or mines, in Cornwall and Devonshire, from which 
he derived, each year, a large income. He was made 
Captain of the Queen's Guard. He was created Lord 
Lieutenant of Cornwall and Vice-Admiral of Devon. 
He received vast estates in Ireland and many privileges 
and licenses, so that he was fast becoming a rich man. 
He was splendid and extravagant in his dress. He 
grew arrogant. He had, in fact, " too much Ego in his 
Cosmos." 

So, the jealous courtiers continued to murmur 
among themselves. 

Elizabeth was fickle as well as sentimental. Her 
fancy passed lightly from one gallant to another. For 
some time Leicester (who had once been her sole 
favorite, and who desired to regain his position) had 
been growing jealous of Raleigh's ascendency ; and 
he had been delighted to see that Queen Bess had taken 
a violent fancy to the impetuous Earl of Essex. A 
quarrel took place between Raleigh and the Ruler 
of England. He was affronted before the whole 
court and retired to his chambers, overwhelmed with 
grief. 

And all the jealous courtiers punched each other 




SIR WALTER RALEIGH- 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 61 

beneath the ribs, and laughed " Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! What 
did we tell you ? " 

It took the " Ego " out of Raleigh's " Cosmos." 

But the gallant courtier had a half-brother — Sir 
Humphrey Gilbert — who had just returned from a 
voyage around the world in the good ship Golden 
Hind. 

" Let's fit out a small fleet," said he to Raleigh, 
** and establish an English colony in Newfoundland." 

" I'm with you," cried Sir Walter. *' We'll found 
another England in far distant America! On with 
it!" 

Thus, an expedition of five ships sailed from Plym- 
outh, in the early summer of 1583. Sir Humphrey 
boarded the Squirrel, and bade his kinsman an afifec- 
tionate adieu. 

" You must remain behind," said he, " and regain 
our position at court ! " 

" That I will endeavor to do," answered Raleigh. 
" Good luck and God speed." 

The expedition was a failure from the start. 
Scarcely had the shallops gone to sea, than one of them 
— the Raleigh — deserted its companions and put 
back. The rest reached Newfoundland, but the men 
were lawless and insubordinate. 

" This is the Deuce of a cold place for a colony," 
they said. " Home to Merrie England I " 

Gilbert was forced to yield to their angry demands, 
and re-embarked. 

" Don't sail in that rattle-trap of a Squirrel," said 
his officers to him. " She'll founder ! " 



62 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

But Sir Humphrey had that obstinacy which char- 
acterized General Braddock. 

" No : I will not forsake the little company, going 
homeward," said he. " I'll stick to my ship." 

He stuck — and — when they hailed him one stormy 
night, he said : 

" Be of good cheer, my friends : we are as near to 
Heaven by sea as by land! " 

That night the Squirrel was sailing a little in ad- 
vance of the other ships, and, as those on board the 
Golden Hind watched the frail barque, they saw her 
lurch, heave, and then sink from view. Thus the soul 
of brave Raleigh's kinsman found a watery grave. He 
had paid for his obstinacy with his life. 

Raleigh was overwhelmed with grief when he 
learned of the death of his heroic half-brother. 

" I'll yet found my Colony," said he. " And I'll go 
myself." 

This pleased the jealouscourtiers more than ever, for 
they would now have him out of the way for all time. 

With his ample wealth, the indefatigable adventurer 
found no difificulty in fitting out an expedition, and, in 
the year after the death of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he 
sent forth two vessels to explore the coast of the Caro- 
linas. 

" I'm going to stay at home and face my enemies ! " 
said the gay blade. " Again good luck and God 
Speed ! " 

They had a fortunate voyage, and, when they re- 
turned, the Captains told of the beautiful harbors, fine 
rivers, magnificent forests and abundance of game. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 63 

The Queen was delighted, and at once named the fair 
country for herself, with characteristic egotism. That 
men might know that this fruitful land was explored 
in the time of the Virgin Queen, it was called " Vir- 
ginia." Raleigh was wild with delight. 

And the jealous courtiers looked dejected and sad. 

A fleet of seven vessels — with one hundred colonists 
— was now sent to Virginia, under the command of 
one Grenville, who was eager to become suddenly rich : 
a disease as common now as in those venturous days. 
No sooner had the people landed, than they began to 
treat the savages with such harshness and rapacity — 
that they had to gain their own food, as the natives 
would have nothing to do with them. Dissensions tore 
the little community into shreds. So they were only 
too glad to return with the gallant old sea-dog. Sir 
Francis Drake, when he happened that way, with a 
large amount of booty which he had just taken from 
the Spaniards in the southern seas. 

Another expedition was sent over by Raleigh ; and 
yet another. They were failures. But there was one, 
single thing which was not a failure. This was the 
discovery of a herb called " Yppowoc," or tobacco, the 
leaves of which — when dried — were smoked by the 
natives in long pipes. 

Curious Sir Walter had a jeweller in London make 
him a silver pipe, after the fashion of those used by the 
native Virginians. In this he began to smoke the 
tobacco, and soon grew to like it very much ; so much, 
indeed, that he was scarcely ever without this com- 
forter, when enjoying the quiet of his home. 



64 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

One day he was sitting cosily by his fire with his 
Long Nine in his mouth, and the smoke was curhng 
gracefuhy over his head. Just as he was puffing out 
a particularly thick cloud, one of his servants happened 
to enter the room with a tankard of ale, for the 
luncheon table. 

" Ye Gods ! " cried he. " My Master's on fire 1 " 

SzvashU 

Over Sir Walter's head went the ale, and the fright- 
ened lackey dashed down the steps. 

"H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!" cried he. "My Master is 
burning up! H-e-l-p! " 

But Sir Walter did not burn up this time. Instead 
he near split his gallant sides with laughing. 

Now, Boys, don't smile! 'Tis said that good old 
Queen Bess tried, herself, to smoke a Long Nine. But 
— hush — " she became so dizzy and ill from the 
effects that she never ventured upon the experiment 
again!" (Keep this quiet! Very quiet! Will you!) 

On one occasion she was watching Sir Walter 
blowing circles of smoke over his head, and said to 
him — 

"Zounds! (or something stronger) Sir Walter! 
You are a witty man ; but I will wager that you can- 
not tell me the weight of the smoke which comes from 
your pipe ! " 

" I can, indeed," was the confident reply of the gal- 
lant courtier. " Watch me closely ! " 

At once he took as much tobacco as would fill his 
pipe and exactly weighed it. Having then smoked it 
up, he — in like manner — weighed the ashes. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 65 

" Now, Your Majesty," said he, smiling. '' The dif- 
ference between these two weights is the weight of the 
smoke." 

And again Queen Bess remarked "Zounds!" (or 
Eftsoons!). At any rate, she paid the wager, for — 
with all her frailties — she was a Good Loser. 

Raleigh, in fact, shortly became reinstated in Royal 
favor, and, when he aided Drake and Hawkins — soon 
afterwards — in dispersing the Invincible Armada, he 
was again in the good graces of his sovereign. 

There was, however, a pretty, young Maid-of-Honor 
at court, called Elizabeth Throgmorton, and no sooner 
had the bright eyes of Sir Walter fallen upon her, than 
he fell in love. In paying court to this amiable lady he 
was compelled to use great caution and secrecy, for 
jealous Queen Bess watched him narrowly, and with 
suspicion. In spite of her preference for Essex, Eliza- 
beth was quite unwilling that Raleigh — her less 
favored lover — should transfer his affections to an- 
other. So, in making love to Elizabeth Throgmorton, 
the gay courtier was compelled to use the utmost care. 

But Murder (or Love) will out! 

It chanced one day, that the Queen discovered what 
was going on between her Maid-of-Honor and the 
cavalier. Her rage knew no bounds. She berated 
Raleigh before her ladies, and forbade him to come to 
court. She fiercely commanded the Maid-of-Honor 
to remain a prisoner in her room, and, on no account 
to see Raleigh again. So the venturous Knight 
turned his attention once more to wild roving upon the 
sea. 



66 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Now the jealous courtiers fairly chuckled with glee. 
"Ha! Ha! Ha !" laughed they. "Ho! Ho! Ho! 
He! He! He!" 

But Sir Walter engaged very actively in fitting out 
some squadrons to attack the Spanish ships. 

" Egad ! I hate a Spaniard ! " he said. " They are 
my country's special enemies and I intend to tlo them 
all the harm that I can ! " 

The Queen was glad enough to separate him from 
his lady love and not only consented to his project, 
but promised to aid him in it. Ere long fifteen vessels 
were anchored in the Thames — all ready to sail — 
but, before he set out, the gallant commander made up 
his mind that he would marry his beloved Maid-of- 
Honor. It was not difficult to find a clergyman who 
would splice him tighter than he ever spliced a rope 
aboard ship. The deed was done. He set sail. All 
was going propitiously. 

" I'll attack the Spanish ships in the harbor of 
ScAnlle," said Raleigh. " Then — off to the Spanish 
Main and sack the town of Panama." He laughed, — 
but what was that? 

Rapidly approaching from the coast of England 
came a swift pinnace. It gained upon the squadron 
in spite of the fact that all sail was hoisted, and, at last 
came near enough to give Raleigh a signal to " Heave 
to." In a few moments her commander climbed 
aboard. 

" The Queen has changed her mind about your ex- 
pedition," said he. " She has sent me — Sir Martin 
Frobisher — to tell you to come home." 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 67 

Raleigh said things which made the air as blue as the 
sea, but he put back — for he could not disobey the 
Royal command. He was soon at court. 

The Queen was furious with anger. 

" You have disobeyed my commands," said she. " I 
find you have secretly married my Maid-of -Honor. 
To the Tower with you! To the dungeons of the 
Tower! " 

And all the jealous courtiers were so happy that 
they danced a can-can in the ante chamber. 

What do you think of this? Thrown into prison 
because he loved a Maid and married her ! Nowadays 
" all the World loves a Lover." In those times all 
the world might have " loved a Lover " except Queen 
Bess, — and a number of courtiers hanging around 
within easy call : They kicked a Lover. And then they 
all got together and said : 

" Fine! Fine ! Now we've got him where he ought 
to be. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho!" 

But women relent; that is one of their chief char- 
acteristics. Queen Bess softened, grew luke-warm, 
finally became molten. 

" Sir Walter Raleigh can go free," said she. 

The gallant courtier returned to his country estate, 
where — with his wife and children he enjoyed the 
luxuries and comforts of country life. And the jealous 
courtiers began to look strangely sober. 

Still the sea called. The sea sang its old song, and. 
fired with the spirit of adventure. Sir Walter decided 
upon another expedition: this time to the coast of 
Guiana, in South America, where, it was said, " billets 



68 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of 
wood marked out to burn." With a large tieet at his 
command he soon started upon this expedition for 
plunder and for fame. This time no Sir Martin Fro- 
bisher sailed after him to bring him back to a dungeon 
in the Tower and he was able to reach his destination. 

The expedition was a howling success. Whenever 
and wherever Sir Walter could inflict injury on the 
Spaniards, whom he so bitterly detested, he did so with 
eagerness. A Spanish ship was soon seen, chased, 
and — after a brief, hot fight — surrendered and was 
boarded. 

"Egad!" cried Raleigh. "Here's luck, for the 
cargo's of fire arms. I'll stow them away in my own 
vessel and let the captive go! " 

Proceeding on his voyage, he not long afterwards 
encountered and captured another prize; a Flemish 
ship sailing homeward with a cargo of fine wine. 
Twenty hogsheads were transferred to the hold of 
Raleigh's ship and the captured craft was allowed to 
sail on, — empty. 

Things continued to go well. The Island of Trini- 
dad (of¥ Venezuela) was reached at last. The natives 
were friendly and told of vast deposits of gold far up 
the river Orinoco. " But would Raleigh not please 
besiege the Spanish town of St. Joseph ? " said they, 
" and rescue some of their chiefs whom the Spaniards 
held prisoners — in chains." 

" I always strike a Spaniard when I can," said 
Raleigh. " On, men, we'll sack this proud city ! " 

St. Joseph speedily fell into his hands. The chiefs 



SIK WALTER RALEIGH 09 

were released. They were so gratified, that they 
paddled him far up the river, where they found glitter- 
ing gold, which they tore out of rocks with their 
daggers. The Englishmen were delighted, and, col- 
lecting a mass of nuggets to show to those at home, 
they put back to the ships, set sail, and were soon in 
England again. 

The people were astonished at this exploit, but the 
jealous courtiers did all they could to deprive Raleigh 
of the renown which was justly his due. 

" What this fellow has told is a lie," whispered they 
into the ears of good Queen Bess. " There is no 
such place as Guiana. Raleigh has been down upon 
the coast of Spain and hidden himself. He has not 
crossed the Atlantic at all." 

Which proves that no one can ever do anything 
adventurous without stirring up the hammers of the 
Envious: the Little Men. Is it not so to-day? Look 
around! You can hear the carping critic at any time 
that you may wish! Do something hig, sometime. 
Then put your ear to the ground and listen! 

But the sea called for the fifth time. A vast English 
fleet was hurled against the Spanish at Cadiz, — a 
great English fleet, accompanied by an army. Eng- 
land was bound to get even with the Spaniards for 
daring to launch the supposedly invincible Armada 
against them — and Sir Walter eagerly sailed for the 
coast of Spain. 

The harbor of Cadiz was seen to be fairly jammed 
full of stately galleons and men-of-war. Arranged in 
compact rows, close to shore, just below the towering 



70 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and frowning castle of Cadiz; they were protected, 
on either side, by fortresses, whence heavy guns peeped 
forth to defend them. There were nearly sixty large 
vessels in all, four of which were galleons, and twenty 
of which were galleys : well-manned and well-armed 
with small cannon. There were many more ships than 
in the attacking fleet. 

It was the evening of June the 20th, 1596. The 
British vessels rapidly sailed into the harbor, Raleigh 
leading, in the flag-ship, the Water Sprite; behind him 
the Mary Rose, commanded by his cousin. Sir George 
Carew; and the Rainbow under Sir Francis Vere. 
All were eager for the fray, and it was not long before 
their approach was observed by the Spanish fleet. In- 
stantly a huge galleon, the Saint Philip — the largest 
in the Spanish Navy — swung out of her position, fol- 
lowed by the Saint Andrczv, second only to her in size. 

" They're coming to meet me ! " cried Raleigh — 
joyously. 

Instead of that, the galleons sailed for a narrow 
strait in the harbor — followed by the rest of the 
Spanish fleet — and cast anchor just under the stout 
fortress of Puntal. They arranged themselves in close 
array and awaited the attack of the English. 

The English fleet anchored, but at daybreak, the 
impetuous Raleigh bore down upon the formidable 
mass of hulking galleons. The sun rays streamed 
over the old, Spanish town, gilding the pinnaces and 
spires of the churches, shining brightly upon the flap- 
ping pennons of Britisher and Don. The white sails 
flapped, spars creaked and groaned, the sailors cheered, 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 71 

and — in a moment — the cannon began to bark, like 
wolf hounds. The hght had begun. 

Raleigh was the incarnation of battle. Passing 
rapidly from point to point upon the deck of his ves- 
sel, he encouraged and urged on his men, exposed him- 
self as freely as the rest ; and whenever a man faltered, 
there he appeared to urge the faint heart on with words 
of inspiration and hope. 

Roar! Roar! Roar! Zoom! Zoom! Crash! 

The arquebusses spittled and spat ; cannon growled ; 
and iron crashed into solid oak planking. 

The orders were not to board until the fly-boats 
(long, flat-bottomed vessels with high sterns) came 
up, which were manned by Dutch allies. For three 
hours the battle raged, but the fly-boats did not arrive. 
The Earl of Essex — the commander of this expedi- 
tion — now ordered his flag-ship to pass through the 
advance line of vessels, and make the way to the front. 
Raleigh was chafing with rage because the fly-boats 
did not come, yet, in spite of the danger of being shot, 
he jumped into a light skiff, and was rowed over to 
the galleon of Essex. 

" I'll board the Saint Philip:' cried he, " if the fly- 
boats do not soon arrive. Even though it be against 
the orders of the Admiral. For it is the same loss to 
burn, or to sink, and I must soon endure one or the 
other." 

" Go ahead ! " yelled Essex, over the bow. " Fll 
second you, upon my honor ! " 

Raleigh hastened with all speed to the deck of the 
Water Sprite, where his men were pounding away at 



72 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

the Spanish galleons with all their might and main. 
No sooner had he mounted the poop, than he saw, with 
anger, that two vessels of his own squadron had forced 
themselves into a position in front of his own ; for 
their commanders wanted to win first honors in this 
battle at sea. 

Raleigh, himself, wished to have the honor, just like 
other sea captains in later battles. But, — that's an- 
other story. 

So, the gallant seaman ran the 1 Voter Sprite between 
the two other ships and took up his position as leader. 
Sir Francis Vere of the Rainbozif was resolved to keep 
in front as well as Raleigh. 

As the IJ'atcr Sprite passed him he slyly cast a rope 
to a sailor, who tied it to her stern, and his own ves- 
sel thus kept abreast of the lumbering galley of his 
chief. " But," writes Sir Walter, " some of my com- 
pany advising me thereof, I caused the rope to be cast 
off, and so Vere fell back in his place, where I guarded 
him — all but his very prow — from the sight of the 
enemy. I was very sure that none would outstart me 
again for that day." 

The guns of the fort appeared to be silent and the 
big galleons lay apparently helpless in the face of the 
valiant enemy. Raleigh moved on, but, as he was 
about to clutch his splendid prize, it escaped him, for 
the Spaniards — finding that they would be captured 
— made haste to run the Saint Philip, and several of 
her sister ships, aground on the sand. 

" Blow them up! " came the order. 

The Spanish sailors and soldiers came tumbling out 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 73 

of the ships into the sea in heaps — " as thick as if 
coals had been poured out of a sack into many pots at 
once." Then a terrific roar boomed forth. The air 
was filled with flying splinters, canvas, iron, and lead. 
The portions of the galleons were now floating upon 
the waves and the water was alive with the strug- 
gling bodies of the Spaniards as they desperately en- 
deavored to save themselves. 

The spectacle was lamentable. Many drowned them- 
selves. Many, half burned, leaped into the water ; 
while others hung by the ropes' ends ; by the ships' 
sides; under the sea, even to their lips. " If any man 
had a desire to see Flell, itself," wrote Sir Walter, " it 
was there most lively figured ! " 

Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 

The English sailors were cheering, for victory was 
theirs, and of all the gallant warriors of that day, 
Raleigh had been the most persistently daring and 
heroic. 

" The Saint Andrciv's still afloat, good Sire! " cried 
one of his sailors at this moment. 

"Then we'll take her! " cried Raleigh. 

She was boarded and captured with little difficulty, 
while yet another galleon — the Saint Mattheiv — fell 
into his hands. These were the only vessels of all that 
proud Spanish fleet which had escaped the flames. 

Raleigh, himself, had been severely wounded in the 
leg, but he refused to release the command of his ship. 
He gave orders that all lives should be spared, and 
although these mandates were rigidly obeyed by the 
English soldiers, the Dutch cruelly slaughtered many 



74 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

of their hapless prisoners, for their hatred of the 
Spaniards was bitter and savage. 

Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined 
to go on shore with the troops and witness the taking 
of the town, in spite of his wound. A litter was pre- 
pared for him — he was lowered into one of the boats 
— rowed ashore, carried upon the shoulders of some of 
his faithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious strug- 
gle which now ensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives 
of the people were spared ; the castle, fortifications and 
the greater part of the town itself, w-ere burned and 
demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still 
find the marks of this great and stirring strife. 

There was nothing left but to put the Spanish pris- 
oners aboard the galleons, collect the plunder, and set 
sail for England. When the fleet again swung into the 
little harbor of Plymouth it was received by the people 
with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England 
rang with the praise of the valor and courage of her 
heroes, for Spain had been stripped of her ability to 
injure her English rival and England's power was 
supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had 
done this, — and the descendants of Raleigh and his 
comrades have continued to uphold the supremacy. 
Hurrah for Raleigh ! 

But how about those jealous courtiers? They were 
still around — Oh, yes ! — And Raleigh was greeted 
at court as coldly as when he had departed with the 
fleet. He had been deprived of his oflice of Captain 
of the Queen's Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz 
did not win this back for him. Nor did he receive any 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 75 

of the spoil which had been won by himself and his 
comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because her 
share of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great 
as she had hoped for. 

" What the Generals have got," wrote Sir Walter, 
" I know least. For my own part, I have got a game 
leg, and am deformed. I have received many good 
words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage ; but 
I have possession of naught but poverty and pain." 

Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded 
to write Sir Walter to come to court, and thus he 
and his wife, whom Elizabeth had also forgiven, ap- 
peared daily in the brilliant throng which clustered in 
the halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was 
restored to his old office of Captain of the Queen's 
Guard and rode forth again in all the splendor of his 
uniform, at the side of the sovereign. 

The rest of Sir Walter's life can be briefly narrated. 
With Essex he took part in a successful expedition to 
tlie Azores, where they captured many ships, and with 
him divided much booty and fame. But Essex became 
too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himself 
upon the throne of England. It was a failure. He 
was captured by the Queen's soldiers — a part under 
Sir Walter himself — was tried, and executed for Higli 
Treason. 

Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man 
who disliked Sir Walter from the start. This was 
James the First of Scotland — a " dour " fellow — 
who charged the valorous knight with treason, for it 
was alleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham, 



76 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

to place the youthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne. 
He was tried, convicted, and thrown into the Tower, 
where he lived for twelve long, tedious years. Think 
of it ! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit 
forced to remain in a dungeon-keep for such a time! 
Weep for brave Sir Walter! This was fine treatment 
for a patriot! 

But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no ! 
They laughed. 

When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower 
(for he had not plotted against the King) he was a 
hale and stalwart cavalier of fifty-two. He was re- 
leased — after twelve years — when his hair and beard 
were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body 
somewhat bent, and his features grave and sorrowful. 
With what tearful joy he clasped to his breast his ever 
faithful wife and his two sons! At sixty-four his 
brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent and restless 
ambition was as keen as ever. 

He went forth with the sentence of death still hang- 
ing over his head ; for King James, although giving 
a grudging consent to his release, had refused to par- 
don him. And he went forth with the understanding 
that he should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana 
in South America; there to attack the Spaniards and 
gain plunder, gold, and jewels. If successful he was 
to go free. If non-successful, he was to suffer punish- 
ment — perhaps death ! 

The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and 
natives were well aware of his coming, for 'tis said that 
King James, himself, sent them news of the expedition. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 77 

" If I go home it's off with my head," said Sir Wal- 
ter. " But I'll risk it." 

Don't you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead 
of sailing to England where you knew that a heads- 
man's axe awaited you, you would have coasted by 
the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped off 
quietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the 
terrapin ! Just stepped into one of the jolly-boats and 
peacefully drifted ashore on a dark night? 

I think that you would have been strongly inclined 
to do so, — but you are not Sir Walter Raleigh. He 
was a lion-hearted adventurer. 

Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape 
to the shores of France. He let them go by, but, when 
he found that his enemies demanded his trial for 
treason, he thought it high time to get away. He 
learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to 
France and had a barque for this purpose. A certain 
Captain King had found a small boat commanded by 
one of Sir Walter's old boatmen, which lay at Tilbury 
awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh's 
guard — one Stukeley — that he should be rowed to 
the little lugger on the evening of Sunday, August the 
9th, 1 6 18. The latter was sent up the Thames river 
to Gravesend. 

At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King, 
Stukeley and his son Hart, with a page, jumped into 
two small wherries in order to row the lugger. They 
had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw another 
boat push out from the bank and follow them. 

" How's this? " said he to Stukeley. 



78 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

But silent Stukeley did not answer. 

The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved 
with equal speed. The tide was singing and gurgling 
in a mad flow, and it became doubtful whether the 
wherries could reach Gravesend under the protection 
of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling 
water made progress very slow. 

At last — seeing that they could not get away — 
the shallops were forced to turn about and retrace 
their passage. The pursuing boat swung, also — like 
a shadow of the first. Sir Walter's heart beat tumultu- 
ously. 

When the fugitives reached Greenwich — Stukeley 
stood up and appeared in his true colors. Laying a 
hand upon the shoulder of faithful Captain King, he 
cried — 

" I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James 
First!" 

Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay. 

" Stukeley," he said with heat, " you are a trait'rous 
cur. These actions will not turn out to your credit ! " 

But the knave laughed derisively, — so derisively 
that the common people dubbed him " Sir Judas 
Stukeley." And it well suited him. Didn't it? 

The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the 
boat which had pursued the wherries — which con- 
tained a courtier named Herbert (to whom Stukeley 
had betrayed the projected escape) — followed them 
close. The soldiers in her (for they had been well 
hidden) escorted the dejected Sir Walter to the grim 
walls of the dungeon. 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 79 

There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer : 
the man had brought honor and renown to England. 
He was tried for Treason : condemned : executed. 

As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said : 

" I have many sins for which to beseech God's 
pardon. For a long time my course was a course of 
vanity. I have been a seafaring man, a soldier, and 
a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of 
these there is enough to overthrow a good mind and 
a good man. I die in the faith professed by the Church 
of England. I hope to be saved, and to have my sins 
washed away by the precious blood and merits of our 
Saviour, Jesus Christ." 

A quick shudder ran through the multitude when 
Sir Walter had ceased tO' live, and many groaned aloud 
at the horrible sight. One stout yeoman cried out 
angrily, " We have not had such another head to be 
cut off." 

The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying 
out against the enemies of the valiant man ; while his 
friends, who were present, parted with tears coursing 
down their cheeks. 

And the jealous courtiers said : " Magnificent ! " It 
was now their turn to shout. And they did it, too. 

So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh's patriotism was 
paid for by death. The trouble with him was, he 
was too much of a man. 

Nomadays — when a soldier or sailor does some- 
thing for England — they give him a Hip! Hip! 
Hurray ! 



80 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

He is appreciated. He is presented with titles, 
honors, and a warm reception. 

Then, when a man did something for England, those 
in power gave him the cold shoulder ; the icy stare. 

That's the reason why England's sons will do some- 
thing for her now. If she had kept treating them as 
she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn't have many 
of them around when it came to a fight. And, some 
day, shell need them all! 

So when a fellow does something really great, don't 
greet him with frozen silence. Cheer! He needs it! 
Besides, — it won't hurt yon! 

Give a tiger and three times three! 

THE VANISHED SAILORS 

Say, sailors, what's happened to young Bill Jones? 
Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy? 
Jones who could handle a boat like a man, 
Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy? 

"Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!" 

Well, sea-dogs, where's Thompson of Yarmouthport dock? 
The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say, 
The man with th' knowledge of charts and of reefs, 
There wasn't his equal from Prawle to Torquay. 

" Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day! " 

Where's Rixey of Hampton ; Smith of Rexhill? 

Who'd coasted and traded from London to Ryde, 

Huggins and Muggins, all seamen of worth, 

Who could jibe and could sail, sir, when combers were wide? 

"Fell o'er the seo-^nd with Raleigh. Last tide!'* 



SIR WALTER RALEIGH 81 

Well, seamen, when that day shall come near, 

When the salt sea is moved from its bed, 

Some will there be, who can give us the news, 

Of all that brave band, whom Adventure has led 

To 

"Fall o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, 'tis said!" 



" Such is the man, 
Whom neither shape nor danger can dismay, 
Nor thought of tender happiness betray ; 
Who, not content that worth stands fast. 
Looks forward, persevering to the last. 
From good to better, daily self-surpassed." 

— Ballads of the Day. 



JEAN BART 

THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH 

(1650-1702) 



As long as selfishness remains a Human Passion, — Warfare 
will continue. 



JEAN BART 

THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH 

(1650- 1702) 

"'What means that canvas, Skipper? It's bearing down to 

port, 
And it drives a blackish barquentine, with every topsail taut, 
There're guns upon her poop deck. There're cannon near her 

bow, 
And the bugler's bloomin' clarion, it shrills a how-de-row?' 
The skipper took a peep at her, his face turned ashen pale, 
His jaw began to tremble, and his knees began to fail. 
As the flag of France swung to the breeze and fluttered without 

check, 
' Jean Bart ! ' he gurgled weakly, and fainted on the deck." 

— Rhymes of The Dutch Channel Fleet. — 1676. 

THE good ship Cochon Gras boiled along off the 
coast of Normandy under a full spread of 
canvas, for the breeze was light, and was from 
the southward. A boy of sixteen stood at the helm. 
He was well bronzed by exposure to the elements; 
was sturdy and strong. His dark hair waved luxuri- 
antly about a face in which keenness and shrewdness 
were easily to be seen. His name was Jean Bart and 
he had been bom at Dunkirk in France. 

The Captain of the Cochon Gras strode about upon 
the deck below. He was in an evil mood and his 
voice showed his ill feeling. 

" Put the helm over ! " he shouted to the steersman. 

85 



86 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Don't you see that your sails aren't half full ! Boy, 
will you never learn ! " 

Jean Bart obeyed. 

" Very good, my Captain ! " said he. " Very good, 
my Monsieur Valbue." 

And, at this, the captain scowled, for he was in a 
beastly temper. 

" I am glad that you act quickly," said he. " You 
know nothing. By acting cjuickly you will learn a 
thing or two. Ticns! Be speedy! Be very quick! 
Be like the Bishop of Oleron ! " 

He smiled and lurched against the rail. 

" Ah, this good prelate was a true seaman," said 
he. " He knew the tides like a mackerel. He knew as 
much as I do, myself, and that is saying a good deal." 

Jean Bart chuckled at the vanity of Monsieur 
Valbue. 

" The good Bishop was standing on the rocks upon 
a stormy evening," continued the captain, " when 
he saw some fisher boats making for the harbor. One 
of them was bearing too close to the shore. One of 
them was going to go upon the rocks. One of them 
was steered by a poor fellow who knew neither the 
reefs nor the shoals. ' Voila! ' cried the good bishop. 
'Voila! I will save this dull-witted sailor.' And. 
forthwith, what do you think that he did. — ?" 

A small knot of seamen had, by this time, collected 
around the talkative captain. They all shook their 
heads. 

" Fools," cried Captain Valbue. " Fools ! Why, 
he strode into the sea, of course. Being a pure man 




JEAN BART. 



JEAN BART 87 

of God and a member of the true church, he walked 
upon the surface of the water. The boat coming in 
was manned by Huguenots, by unbehevers, mark 
you! By fellows who had neither the sense nor the 
grace to be members of the true church. They could 
not walk upon the water. Oh ! No ! But the good 
Bishop he walked as easily as a stormy petrel, for he 
was a man of God. And, as he reached the boat he 
made the sign of the cross, saying, ' Beware of the 
rocks which you sail down upon ! Bear off to the 
left! When you see the red buoy, bear to the right, 
and then come home by keeping your bow pointed for 
the spire of the big church ! ' And they did so. They 
were saved by the good Bishop, whom I know well. 
As for me. I would have let the foolish Huguenots 
get their just deserts. It would have been one heretic 
less and good riddance." 

At this one of the seamen was plainly angered. 

"Piff!" said he. "Piff!" That was all. But 
Monsieur Valbue had noticed it and Monsieur Valbue 
grew angry in a moment. Seizing a half-empty cider 
mug, from which he had been drinking, he hurled it 
at the head of the fellow who had made the remark. 

" You dog of a Huguenot ! " he roared. 

The seaman dodged, and the cider mug spun into 
the planks of a jolly boat. Then he stepped forward 
and said, 

" Captain Valbue, the Laws of Oleron, under which 
we sail, say that you cannot and must not strike a 
seaman with any missile. I, Lanoix, will strike back 
if you hit me." 



88 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

But Monsieur Valbue was like a bubbling tea-pot. 
Seizing a hand-spike, he shot it out at the man who 
knew the law. 

" The Laws of Oleron allow me just one blow," 
blubbered Captain Valbue. " Just as the laws of 
England allow each dog one bite." 

As luck would have it, he missed his shot. 

Lanoix leaped over the iron rail which separated 
the forecastle from the after part of the vessel. Then 
he turned around. 

" Follow me here, you coward! " he shouted to the 
captain, " and I will have the right to crack you 
through the middle. Consult the Laws of Oleron un- 
der which we sail and see if they do not back me up! " 

" The laws be blowed ! " yelled Monsieur Valbue, 
now beside himself with rage. And, leaping across 
the rail he struck the Hug^Jenot two sturdy blows in 
the face. 

Jean Bart, meanwhile, steered the ship: looked on; 
and said nothing. 

R-i-i-p! There was a flash, a blow, and a cry of 
pain. A large, keen knife was clenched in the strong 
right hand of Lanoix, and the captain was running 
red, with a deep gash in his shoulder. 

" Down with the Mutineer! Down with the dog! " 
came from the throats of the members of the crew 
who had clustered about the two enraged men, smiling 
at the little afifair. 

With a rush they were upon the Huguenot; had 
forced him to the deck; and wrested the knife from 
his hand. But, before it was wrenched from his fist, 



JEAN BART 89 

the blade had pierced the body of a seaman and had 
felled him to the boarding. 

" Bring up the Laws of Oleron," cried Captain 
Valbue, when the Huguenot had been secured. 
" Bring up the Laws of Oleron from my cabin, and 
let us see whether or no I was right, when I struck 
this prating Lanoix ! " 

The cabin-boy dove below and was soon again upon 
the deck. 

" The law shall be read," cried the captain. " Out 
with it ! " 

Now, aboard the vessel was one Antoine Sauret — 
a good, old boatswain — a friend of the father of 
Jean Bart, and a courageous man. 

" The law shows you to be in the wrong," said he. 

" Yes," cried Jean Bart from the wheel, which he 
had not left. " You were, and are, in the wrong." 
Monsieur Valbue glowered at them. 

" I am the law," said he. " Is this not my vessel? " 

" But the right is on his side," interrupted the good 
Antoine Sauret. 

" You wait and see what I do to this cur of a 
Huguenot," snarled Captain Valbue. " And no more 
talk from either you or Jean Bart. Hear! Six out 
of eight of the crew agree that this Lanoix has 
wounded me and has slain one of his ship-mates — 
without proper provocation — I will now fix him." 

And this he did in the most approved manner. 

Lashing his victim's arm to a sharp sword tied to 
the windlass, he knocked the unfortunate Lanoix 
upon the deck with a hand-spike. Then, tying him — 



90 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

still alive — to the dead sailor whom the Huguenot 
had killed when the crew rushed upon him, — he cried 
out: 

" Throw 'em both to the fishes ! " 

They were seized. 

" One ! Two ! Three ! Heave Away ! " sounded 
from the throats of the Frenchmen. 

Lanoix and the dead sailor spun out above the blue 
water. A splash. A gurgle of white foam, and the 
Atlantic closed above them. 

Seamen — you \\ itness — were brutes, in these 
merry days of privateering. But hear the sequel of 
the gruesome story ! 

Jean Bart and the good boatswain Sauret had, from 
that moment, no high opinion of the Laws of Oleron. 
So, when the vessel touched at Calais, upon the coast 
of France, they walked up to the captain, saying: 

" Sir. We wish to leave you ! We cannot sail any 
longer beneath your orders." 

The brutal Valbue scowled. 

" Go! " said he. " And good riddance." 

But when the circumstances of the death of the two 
men were reported to the authorities, the captain was 
tried. 

" The Law of Oleron," said the Judge to him, 
" acquits you, for the Huguenot sailor was in the 
wrong to draw his knife, when you struck him only 
with your fists. But it is a bad law and must be 
changed." 

Here he turned to young Jean Bart and the good 
Sauret. 



JEAN BART 91 

"As for you two," said he, " I most highly com- 
mend you for protesting against the brutahty of this 
captain. Would that all the sailors of France were 
as good as both of you. If they were, there would 
be less trouble aboard ship. Again I commend you ! " 

So — feeling very happy, indeed — young Jean 
Bart went out into the street. Though only sixteen 
he had been right in his attempt to save the life of 
poor Lanoix. Good for young Bart! Hats off to 
the sailor lad of sixteen who was more merciful than 
the cruel Law of Oleron ! And this brutal set of rules 
was soon changed to the Maritime Code of France, 
which gave seamen some right to defend themselves 
against the attacks of rough and overbearing captains. 
Thus Jean Bart had started the ball rolling in the right 
direction. Again hats off to the doughty, young 
Frenchman ! 

Not long after this event the Dutch fell out with 
the English and began a smart little war. Jean Bart 
hastened to the scene of action, enrolled in the Dutch 
cause, and fought with them for five full years. Then 
the Dutch began to make war upon the French (in 
1672), but this was too much for the patriotic senti- 
ments of the youthful volunteer. 

" Ah ! " said he. " When my own people are at- 
tacked, I must hasten to their assistance. The Dutch 
have paid me well 'tis true, but now I scorn their gold. 
Vive la France ! " 

So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found 
employment, and went to sea again — not in a man- 
of-war, but in a privateer. He was now four-and- 



92 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

twenty; was wiry, tough, and well used to battling 
both with men and with the elements. The boat he 
sailed in mounted only two guns and had a crew of 
thirty-six. She was named after a famous personage 
of Biblical history : Kiiig David, and she conducted 
herself as skilfully as did that ancient monarch, for 
was not Jean Bart at the helm? 

Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the 
North Sea, it was not long before a vessel was sighted 
that was of such small tonnage that Bart was not 
afraid to give chase. He slapi>ed on all canvas, put 
his helm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of 
canvas. The King David was a swift sailer, and soor\ 
the bow-gun spoke from the deck of the French pri- 
vateer, sending a challenging shot whistling close to 
the stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the 
States General (the Dutch Republic) with which the 
French were now at war. 

The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came 
to in a hurry, while her flag fluttered weakly to the 
deck. 

" She's ours ! " cried Jean Bart, gleefully. " And 
without a fight. Hurray for the life of a privateer! " 

Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen 
to be a valuable prize, laden with tea, spices, and cot- 
ton. She was manned by a small crew and sent to 
port. 

" Now oflf for other luck ! " cried Jean Bart. 

Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising 
in the English Channel, near the Belgian coast, he cap- 
tured six prizes ; all without any fighting. The Dutch 



JEAN BART 93 

trading vessels of those days must have been without 
guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy 
to stand O'ff a crew of but thirty-six, with only two 
cannon aboard. Jean Bart — you may be sure — was 
well satisfied. He was now rich, quite famous, and 
keen for further adventure. 

So well did the owners of the privateer King David 
think of him, that they now put him in charge of a 
larger vessel named La Royale, carrying about eighty 
men and ten guns. 

" Go out and win ! " cried the chief owner of this 
privateer. " Jean Bart, you are followed by the best 
blood of France. Your men are all from Dunkirk! " 

And Jean Bart smiled. 

" Watch me! " said he. 

Cruising near the coast of Holland in company 
with a small French gun-boat, he fell in with a man- 
of-war — the Espcrance — carrying twelve guns and 
about one hundred and twenty men. 

"Now we'll have a real fight!" cried the youthful 
French commander as he cleared decks for action. 
" Men, see to it that your swords are sharpened for 
there may be some boarding ! " 

Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to 
follow him and give battle. This ally carried about 
a hundred men and six cannon. 

"Poof! Poof!" 

The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to 
speak and they barked away like fat Newfoundland 
watch-dogs. 

"Poof J Poof! B-o-o-m!" 



94 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about 
seventy-five yards and then he gave the command, 

"Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!" 

A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of La 
Royale and a splitting of boards and crackling of 
splinters showed that the iron missiles had punctured 
the stout sides of the Espcrancc. 

"Pop! Pop! Crash!" 

The other French vessel now threw her lead into 
the stern of the defender of the flag of the States Gen- 
eral and her mizzen-mast was seen to rock like an 
unfastened May pole. 

" Whow ! " 

The Esperance was not slow in answering back and 
her twelve guns spat like leopards in the brush. She 
filled away and bore towards the land, but the French 
gun-boat saw this move and checkmated it. 

Sailing across her l)ow, the Frenchman raked her 
fore and aft, while the rub-a-dub-dub of Jean Bart's 
guns went drumming against her starboard side. 
Crash ! Crash ! Crash ! Her boards were split, her 
mizzen-mast was swaying, and her rigging was near 
cut in two. Men were falling fast and two of her 
gims had blown up and were rendered useless. 

"Surrender!" came a sharp hail from the lusty 
throat of Jean Bart, and, as he spoke, a perfect hail 
of grape came from his French ally, now creeping up 
to port for a chance to grapple and board. 

"What can I do?" sighed the stout, Dutch com- 
mander, turning to one of his lieutenants. " Boy, haul 
down our flag! " 



JEAN BART 95 

So down came the emblem of the States General 
amidst ringing cheers from the throats of the fol- 
lowers of Jean Bart. They had won a notable 
victory. 

When the Espcrancc was towed and half-sailed into 
Dunkirk harbor, old Antoine Sauret was there. 

" Ah, my friends," said he, " I always told you that 
my boy, Jean Bart, would make a great name for him- 
self. Three times three for the great privateer of 
Dunkirk ! " 

And all the bystanders joined in right willingly. 

Not long after this event, our hero's ship was lying 
in the harbor of Bergen in Sweden. The captain of 
an English vessel met him on shore, and, after having 
a chat with him, remarked : 

" I hear that you have quite a reputation for fight- 
ing your ship. I, too, am a sea warrior and would 
like to have a little affair with you. My own ves- 
sel is of about the same tonnage as yours, so that 
we could meet upon even terms. Will you join 
me?" 

" I would be delighted," answered the war-like Jean 
Bart. " If you wait two days I will be ready for you 
and will fight you three miles of¥ the coast. Mean- 
while I must lie here and take on some stores which 
are much needed by both men and guns." 

The Englishman smiled. 

" You are a man after my own heart," said he. 
" Good-by until we meet in battle." 

Three days after this, Jean Bart sent a boy to the 
English vessel with a note for the captain. It ran: 



96 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" I am ready to fight you to-morrow. Meet me 
three miles beyond the breakwater and may the best 
man win. Until then — good luck. 

" Yours for battle, 

"Jean Bart." 

The boy came back bearing a return missive from 
the Englishman, who wrote : 

" Monsieur Bart : I am delighted to learn that 
you want to fight me, and will do so. You are indeed 
a brave man. But — before we go for each other's 
throats — pray let us breakfast together. Will you 
therefore take your morning meal with me, to-mor- 
row, in my own cabin, aboard my ship? I shall expect 
you, 

" Yours to count on, 

" MiDDLETON." 

" I do not want to accept, but I will," mused Cap- 
tain Bart. " These English fellows are far too po- 
hte." 

So, next morning, he was rowed to the British ves- 
sel and was soon breakfasting with his red-faced oppo- 
nent. 

After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe, 
took a few pufifs, and said : 

" Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful 
repast. But it is now time for me to go and sharpen 
my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu." 

The Englishman smiled. 



JEAN BART 97 

" No," said he. " You cannot go. You are my 
prisoner! " 

Jean Bart still smoked. 

" You are too quick ! " he answered, slowly. 
'' There you are wrong. I am not your prisoner, for 
I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and, if you 
do not release me immediately, I will blow up your 
ship! " 

The Englishman turned pale. 

"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart. 

Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted 
a match from his pipe, and held it directly over the 
mouth of a barrel of gunpowder, from which some- 
one had pried the head. 

"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, 
and we'll all go to the Land of the Hereafter to- 
gether." 

His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which — 
with sails up — lay waiting for him. 

In a moment her bow was turned towards the 
British ship which was still at anchor, with sails un- 
hoisted. In a moment she dropped down alongside — 
and — in less time than it takes to tell — the French- 
men had brought her upon the port quarter, and were 
swarming across the deck to rescue their bold captain. 

Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, 
but they were no match for the infuriated men of 
Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered. The cap- 
tain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered 
a legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which 
Middleton had attempted to play upon Jean Bart. 



98 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

When — in a few days — the prize was sailed into 
Dunkirk harbor — the Englishman well wished that 
he had not attempted to capture the most able priva- 
teersman of all France. 

The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and 
gave rise to a ditty, which ran : 

" If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir, 
A slippery, slimy chap, 
Don't bait him with gunpowder, 
For he's sure to miss the trap. 
You must splice him down with chains, sir; 
You must nail him to the deck. 
Put a belt around his middle. 
And a collar 'round his neck. 
Even then you cannot hold him. 
For he's certain to get through. 
While his sailors sing a song, sir, 
With a 

Cock- 
a- 
doodle- 

doo ! " 

In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did 
not remain long on shore. Three weeks after this 
auspicious event he once more put to sea and captured 
a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed the 
captains to ransom for large sums of money. 

This was a very convenient arrangement, for it 
saved him the trouble of putting part of his own crew 
on board and sending the boats to port. But the own- 
ers of La Royale, upon which he sailed, did not care 
for his methods of procedure. 

" You cannot do this in future! " said they. " And 
you must forfeit half of what you took to us!" 



JEAN BART 99 

Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is 
even said that he uttered *' a round seaman's oath." 

So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a 
much larger vessel in 1676. This was a frigate — 
the Palme — with twenty-four guns and a crew of 
one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North 
Sea with two small French gun-boats, he soon fell in 
with three Dutch privateers and eight armed whaling 
vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged for three 
long, bloody hours. 

When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned 
away, Bart had boarded the largest privateer, while his 
two consorts had taken the eight whalers. The other 
Dutch privateers found it too hot for their liking and 
scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively 
as they disappeared. It was a great victory, and again 
the French coast rung with salvos for Jean Bart, while 
the old sea-dogs shrugged their shoulders, say- 
ing: 

" Ah ! Ha ! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred 
men of bone and marrow. Ah ! Ha ! " 

But Jean Bart was not happy. 

" Would that I could meet a foe of my own force," 
he used to say. " Fither a man-of-war or a privateer, 
I don't care which. I want to try it on with one of 
my own size and strength." 

His wish was soon to be gratified. 

On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the Palme 
towards the Belgian coast-line, when he sighted a 
number of sail on the starboard quarter. He headed 
for them ; scanned the white dots through a glass, and 



100 FAAiOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed 
luggers. But a big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered 
in their rear, and thirty-two guns pointed their brown 
muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes. She 
was the NepUine and she lazed along like a huge 
whale : omnipotent and self-satisfied. 

" Ah ha ! " cried the delighted Jean Bart. " Now 
I have met an enemy that is worthy of my steel. Up 
with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman. We 
have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are 
we to be awed by this show of force? Be ready, my 
boys, to have the stifTest fight in your careers! " 

The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he 
saw who was coming for him. 

" Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer," he 
cried. " For three years I've been hoping to have a 
fight with him and now my chance has come at last. 
I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all the 
damage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot 
low, my hearties, and do not fail to hull our enemy. 
Let your war-cry be : * Down with Jean Bart and his 
pirate crew ! ' " 

" Hurrah ! " shouted his men. 

And an answering 

"Hurray!" came from the Palme. These oppo- 
nents were as eager to get at each other as two prize- 
fighters of modern days. 

Crash! roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate 
as her flag went aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went 
her shells around the sides of the privateer. 

*' Sail in close ! " yelled Jean Bart. " Hug her to 



JEAJST BART loi 

leeward for awhile, then cross her bows, rake her, get 
her wind, and board." 

"Hurray!" shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a 
rattle, rattle, roar came from the port guns of the 
Palme. 

Around and around swung the sea gladiators and 
the little fishing boats luffed and tittered on the waves 
like inquisitive sparrows. 

" Bart cannot win ! " said several of their skippers. 
" For he's out weighted and outnumbered ! " 
But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones. 
Around and around went the two opponents, guns 
growling, men cheering, sails slapping and ripping 
with the chain and solid shot. Again and again Jean 
Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for board- 
ing and again and again he was forced to tack away 
by the quick manoeuvres of the Dutchman. 
^^ "Fire into her rigging!" he now thundered. 
"Cripple those top-sails and I can bring my boat 
alongside." 

"Crash! Crash! Crash!'' 

Volley after volley puffed from the side of the 

rolling Palme. Volley after volley poured its lead and 

iron into the swaying rigging of the Dutchman, and, 

with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, the 

mizzen top-mast came toppling over the lee rail. 

A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the Pahne. 

" She's ours ! " cried Jean Bart, smiling. 

Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and 

brought his boat upon the starboard quarter of the 

Dutchman, who was now part helpless. It took but 



102 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more, 
the Palme was lashed to the Neptune in a deadly em- 
brace. Smoke rolled from the sides of both contest- 
ants and the roar of the guns drowned the shrill cries 
of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate 
and their guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive 
volleys; but many of them were silenced, as the great, 
brown side of the Palme rubbed its planking against 
the splintered railing of the shattered Neptune. 

As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean 
Bart seized a boarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and, 
giving the helm to a sailor, leaped into the waist of 
his sliip. 

" Board ! Board ! " he shouted. 

A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he 
vaulted over the rail of his own ship to the deck of 
the stranger, a motley crew of half-wild sea-savages 
swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses and board- 
ing-pikes, and their faces were blackened with powder. 
Their eyes were reddened with sulphurous fumes and 
their clothes torn with splintered planking. They 
rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave of irresist- 
ible fire : pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlasses 
glistening in the rays of the sun. 

The captain of the Neptune lay near his own wheel, 
grievously wounded. 

"Lay on, men!" he shouted. "Don't let this 
French privateer beat us. We will be disgraced." 

But his sailors were no match for the onrush of 
these fiends from Dunkirk. They fell back like foam 
before a sea squall. 



JEAN BART 103 

" Then down with our flag," cried the captain of 
the Dutchman. " But, ye gods, how it hurts me to 
give the order." 

A" sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign 
to the deck, and, as it fell upon the reddened planking, 
a wild, frenzied cheer came from the French priva- 
teers. 

" Jean Bart, forever ! France forever ! Jean Bart 
forever!" they cried. 

'* Up with the French flag!" yelled Jean Bart, 
laughing like a boy. '' Up with the white lilies of 
France." 

And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing 
luggers scudded for the shore. 

" After them, men ! " cried Captain Bart. " Our 
work is not yet over. We must have the lambs as 
well as the old wolf." 

So, sail was soon clapped on the Palme, she headed 
for the fleeing boats, and, with a few well directed 
shots, hove them to. Then they were told to follow 
behind and head for France, which they did — but, 
oh! how it did hurt! 

It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes 
danced with pleasure when he sailed into Dunkirk with 
the captured Neptune and the fleet of fishing boats. 

" Voila ! " cried the townspeople. " Jean Bart is a 
true hero. Voila ! He shall have the freedom of the 
city. Voila!" 

The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad 
and the king showed some desire to see this coura- 
geous privateersman. 



104 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" I would have him at court," said he to his minis- 
ter Colbert. " For I would reward him." 

When news of this was brought to the privateers- 
man he was naturally delighted, and, travelling to 
Versailles, was ushered into the presence of his Maj- 
esty. 

" Here is a gold chain for you," said the king. " I 
trust that you will keep it in recognition of my appre- 
ciation of your gallant conduct. I would be glad, in- 
deed, to have you in the Royal Service. Would you 
not take a commission ? " 

" You overwhelm me," answered the valiant sea- 
fighter, blushing. "I — I — I — am quite discon- 
certed. But — if it would please your Majesty, I 
believe that I would prefer to remain a simple priva- 
teer. It is a free life and it suits my roving na- 
ture." 

The king chuckled. 

" So be it," said he. " But my good sir, keep your- 
self in readiness for a commission. I may need you in 
the Royal Marine!" 

" Very good. Sire ! " said Jean Bart, and, bowing 
low, he withdrew. 

But he did not get away without an adventure, — 
quite as exciting as any he had had aboard the rock- 
ing decks of one of his privateer ships. 

The fame of Jean Bart had stirred up a number of 
enemies, for, when a man is successful in life, are there 
not always a hundred unsuccessful fellows who stand 
about and scoff? 

Among these were a few followers of the sea who 



JEAN BART 105 

had determined to make way with this too fortunate 
privateer. One — Jules Blanc by name — even de- 
cided upon murder, if Jean Bart would not agree to 
leave the privateering business to himself and his 
companions. 

As the sailor from Dunkirk left the presence of 
the king he was accosted by one of his old acquaint- 
ances. 

" Ha, Jean Bart," said he. " Come with me to the 
Inn. Have a glass with me, my boy, for I see that 
the king has richly rewarded you. You deserve it, 
for you have done well, and you must be tired from 
your journey. Come, let us dine together?" 

Suspecting nothing, the gallant privateer followed 
his companion quite willingly, and, when he arrived 
at the Inn, was not surprised to find several other sea- 
men from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports of 
France. They greeted him warmly. 

" To your health ! " cried they, raising their glasses 
of wine. " To the health of the bravest privateer in 
all of France." 

Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child, 
seated himself at their table, and began to drink with 
these jovial men of the sea. 

As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously 
shoved into his hand. He did not see from whence 
It came, and, as he scanned its contents, his face grew 
strangely pale. 

" Beware of these fellows," he read. " They mean 
to kill you if you do not do what they wish. Be- 
ware ! " 



106 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Jean Bart soon regained his composure. 

"Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs," 
said the friend who had first accosted him. " Come, 
my boys ! We will there have far more quiet ! " 

All moved for the door. 

Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up- 
stairs, he loosened his sword-belt and cocked two pis- 
tols which he carried at his waist. He was not sur- 
prised when he saw them lock the stout door as they 
entered the room upon the second floor. 

When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His 
face well exhibited his dislike for the successful pri- 
vateersman, Jean Bart. 

" Now, my friend," said he, facing the man from 
Dunkirk, " we have you here with a purpose. We 
wish you to know that we are determined that you 
shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own busi- 
ness for us. You have had enough success. We 
want you to withdraw and give some one else a 
chance." 

Jean Bart smiled. 

" We think that you should retire for we want 
some pickings for ourselves." 

" And if I refuse ? " queried Jean Bart. 

Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his 
sword-hilt. 

" Then — there will be trouble!" 

" Poof!" said Jean Bart. 

As he spoke, all drew their rapiers. 

"Again Poof!" said Jean Bart. 

As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He 



JEAN BART 107 

parried it, leaped upon a chair, and stood there smi- 
hng. 

Crack ! There was the sound of a pistol and a 
bullet whizzed by his ear. 

Then there was a sudden and awful Crash! The 
room was filled with dust. 

When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean 
Bart no longer stood upon the table. He had disap- 
peared through the window. And broken glass with 
splintered fastenings was all that remained of the once 
perfect glazing. 

" He has gone," said Jules Blanc. " Fellow sea- 
men, we are outdone." 

But Jean Bart was a quarter of a mile away, laugh- 
ing softly to himself, as he sped along the highway 
which led to quiet Dunkirk. 

Things went well with him, also, for his employers 
— appreciating his past services — now gave him 
command of a larger ship than the Palme: the Dait- 
phin, with thirty guns and two hundred eager and 
adventurous sailors from the northern coast of France. 

Sailing forth from Dunkirk harbor, on June i8th, 
1678, Jean Bart eagerly scanned the horizon with his 
glass. With him were two smaller privateers, so that 
he felt well able to cope with any adversary from Hol- 
land. His keen glance was soon to be rewarded, for 
when but two days from port he spied a sail upon the 
starboard bow. It was a Dutch frigate — the Sher- 
dam — of forty guns and manned by many stout dogs 
of the sea. Her captain — Andre Ranc — was a keen 
fighter and a man of well-tried courage. 



108 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Bear off to leeward ! " signalled Jean Bart to his 
privateer companion. " Then we will get the stranger 
between us, fasten to her, and board her from either 
side." 

The flag of the French privateer dipped back an 
answering, "All right!" and, as she was nearest to 
the Dutchman, she attacked at once. 

^' Poom! Pooin!" went the Dutch cannon, like the 
beating of a churn in that land of canals and cheese- 
making. And piff! piff! answered the little howitz- 
ers of the privateer. 

But Jean Bart meant to have a quick fight, so he 
bore down to starboard, wore ship, and ran so close to 
the enemy, that his grappling irons soon held her fast. 
In a moment more his own vessel was hauled along- 
side. 

Meanwhile the smaller French privateer had 
spanked over to larboard ; had run up upon the oppo- 
site side of the lumbering Dutchman; and had also 
gripped her. A wild, nerve-wracking cheer went up, 
as — sword in hand — Jean Bart led his boarders 
over the side of the Dutch vessel. 

Ranc was badly wounded but he led his men to a 
counter assault with courage bom of desperation. 
Cutlasses crashed together, boarding-pikes smashed 
and hacked, and pistols growled and spattered in 
one discordant roar. Back went the Dutch sailors 
fighting savagely and bluntly with all the stubborn- 
ness of their natures, then back they pushed the 
followers of Jean Bart, while Ranc called to 
them: 



JEAN BART 109 

"Drive these French curs into the sea! " 

But now the other privateer had made fast, and her 
men came clambering over the rail, with cutlass, dirk, 
and pistols. 

" We're outnumbered," Ranc shouted, his face 
showing extreme suffering. " Haul down the flag ! 
Had Jean Bart been here alone I could have trounced 
him well." 

Thus reluctantly and sadly the flag of the Sherdam 
came down. But the French had paid well for their 
victory. 

Jean Bart was badly wounded in the leg; his face 
was burned by the discharge of a gun, which went off 
— almost in his eyes — just as he leaped on board the 
Sherdam. Six of his men were killed and thirty-one 
were wounded, while the little privateer that had 
fastened to the other flank of the huge Sherdam, was 
a total wreck. So well, indeed, had the Dutch fighters 
plied their cannon as she approached, that she was 
shattered almost beyond repair. With great difficulty 
she was finally towed to shore. 

Of course all France again rang with the fame of 
Jean Bart, while the crafty sea-dogs who had en- 
deavored to capture the slippery privateersman were 
furious with envious rage. But Jean Bart hummed 
a little tune to himself, which ran, 

" You'll have to get up early if you want to catch Jean Bart, 

You'll have to get up early, and have a goodly start, 

For the early bird can catch the worm, if the worm is fast 

asleep, 
But not if it's a privateer, who can through a window leap." 



no FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

This invincible corsair was also not idle, for in two 
weeks' time he was again at sea in the Mars of thirty- 
two guns, and a fast sailer. Eagerly looking for 
prizes, he cruised far up the coast of Holland and was 
keenly hunting for either merchantman or frigate, 
when a small vessel neared him, upon which was fly- 
ing a white flag. 

"A truce!" cried Jean Bart. "The war must be 
over." 

When the little boat drew nearer, a fat Dutchman 
called out something which sounded like, " Amsterdam 
yam Goslam ! " which meant, " Peace has been de- 
clared," in Dutch. 

So Jean Bart sailed back into the sheltering harbor 
of Dunkirk with tears of sorrow in his eyes, for he 
loved his exciting life. 

" Helas! " said he. " It is ah over! " 

Thus, indeed, ended the career of Jean Bart as a 
privateer captain. In January, 1679, he was given the 
commission of lieutenant in the French navy, but, 
although he accepted, he was never happy in this 
service. From captain to lieutenant was a decided 
come down, and besides this, the aristocratic officers 
of the Crown made life very unpleasant for one who 
had entered their ranks from privateering. 

"Bah!" said they. "He is only a commoner!" 
And they would turn up their titled noses. 

But — mark you this! 

Several hundred years have passed since those days, 
and Jean Bart's name is still remembered. Who re- 
members the names of any of these titled nobles who 



JEAN BART HI 

held commissions from his Majesty, the King of 

France ? 

I do not think that any of you do. Certainly I do 

not. 

Therefore, there is a little lesson to be learned, and 

it is this: 

Never sneer at the fellow who accomplishes things, 
if he be of humble birth. His name may go down to 
history. Yours probably will not. 

So, the next time that you are tempted to do this, 
think it over. If yoii do, you will not say, " Pish, — 
the Commoner!" But you will say, 

"Well done! The Hero!" 

So, good-by, Jean Bart, and may France produce 
your like again, if she can! 



Keep these legends, gray with age, 
Saved from the crumbling wrecks of yore. 
When cheerful conquerors moored their barques 
Along the Saxon shore." 

— Thomfson. 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 
THE GREAT FRENCH '' BLUE " 

(1673-1736) 



Self trust is the essence of Heroism." — Plut.vrch. 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 

THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE" 

(1673 -1736) 

" He's only a scurvy Democrat, his blood is hardly blue, 

Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu ! Sapristi ! Eet is true ! 

Yet, he fights like the Maid of Orleans, with dirk and halberd, too, 

Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu 1 Sapristi ! Eet is true ! 

Then — what'll you think, good gentlemen, you men of the kingly 

pack, 
Ye sons of Armand the Terrible, ye whelps of Catouriac, 
Shall he gain the royal purple? Shall lie sit in the ranks with us? 
Shall he quaff of our golden vintage, shall he ride in the roj'al 

bus? 
Nay! Nay! For that would be te-r-r-ible ! Nay! Nay! That 

ill-born ciiss:^ 
Par done! but that is unbearable! 'Twould result in a shameful 

fuss ! 
Pray, let him remain a Democrat — The cream of the fleet for 

us." 

— Song of the French Royal Marine. — 1695. 

""'^T'OU must be a churchman, Renee," said the 

I good Luc Trouin, turning" to his little son. 

" I have always had a great aml)ition to have 

a child of mine in the church, and I feel that you are 

in every way qualified for the position of a prelate." 

But little Renee hung his head. 

" Look up, boy," continued the amiable Frenchman. 
" I know that you are not now pleased with the idea, 
but — later on — after you have had more experience, 

115 



116 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

I feel sure that you can thank Heaven that your good 
father started you in the right and proper direction." 

Still, little Renee hung his head. 

" Tut ! Tut ! " continued the old man. " You will 
leave, to-morrow, for the college at Rheims, and, after 
you have been there but a short time, I feel sure that 
you will like it. Tut! Tut!" 

But still little Renee hung his head. 

Again came the amiable " Tut ! Tut I " and the 
chuckling Luc Trouin wandered off into the garden 
to see how well the potatoes were growing. 

But little Renee still hung his head. 

And — in spite of the fact that little Renee went to 
the Divinity school at Rheims, he continued to hang 
his head. He hung his head for three years. Then, 
news was brought to him, one day, that the good Luc 
Trouin was dead, and, instead of holding his hand- 
kerchief to his eyes to wipe away the tears, as one 
would expect of him, little Renee burst into loud 
laughter. 

" At last," cried he, " I can get away from the 
church and go to sea. At last my freedom has come ! " 

And it was not many hours before little Renee was 
scudding away from the school of Divinity, like a 
clipper-ship under a full spread of canvas, before a 
rousing sou' west breeze. 

For at least two hundred years before the birth of 
bad, little Renee, the Trouin family had been well 
known and prosperous in the Breton sea-port of St. 
Malo. For many years a Trouin had been consul at 
Malaga, Spain; and other members of the house had 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 117 

held excellent positions with the King, so little Renee 
had no reason to be ashamed of his forebears, in spite 
of the fact that his people were of the " bourgeoisie : " 
ship-owners, traders, smugglers, privateers, and mer- 
chants. And, as they were of the " bourgeoisie," they 
were somewhat looked down upon by the proud and 
haughty aristocrats who fawned about the weak and 
dissipated King. 

Little Renee was the son of Luc Trouin and Mar- 
guerite Boscher but he was called Du Guay-Trouin, 
in later years, and the reason for this is plain. For — 
in accordance with the custom of the time — he was 
sent to be nursed by a foster mother who resided in 
the little village of Le Gue. So he was called Trouin 
du Gue; which shortly became Du Guay-Trouin. 

" I've come home, mother," shouted little Renee, 
when he had plodded his weary way which lay between 
his temporary prison and the house of his parents. 
" I've come home, mother, and I'm going to sea! " 

But his mother did not take any too kindly to this 
bold and valiant idea. 

" You must study law," said she, with great firm- 
ness. And — in spite of the fact that little Renee 
begged and pleaded — he was forced to give up his 
idea of sea-faring life for the dry drudgery and rou- 
tine of a clerk at law. He was now about sixteen 
years of age. 

" The law is dry and my spirits are high," youthful 
Renee is said to have carolled as he spent his first few 
hours at a lecture, " and whatever m^ay be I'm going 
to sea." 



118 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

At any rate, he soon got into trouble and engaged 
in three duels in his sixteenth year, in one of which 
his assailant gave him a serious wound. This was 
too much for even his stern mother to bear, so, sum- 
moning a family council, she gave forth the following 
opinion : 

" Renee has failed as a student of Divinity. Renee 
has failed as a student of law. Renee has entirely too 
high spirits. Renee shall, therefore, be placed in one 
of the family ships and sent to sea." 

And to this decree Renee is said to have cried : 
" At last! Hurray! " for he longed for action. 

In a very short time little Renee had a taste of that 
war and adventure which he craved, for a historian 
writes that: 

" During the first three months of this cruise his 
courage was tried by a violent tempest, an imminent 
shipwreck, the boarding of an English ship, and the 
threatened destruction of his own vessel by fire. The 
following year, still as a volunteer, he displayed the 
greatest personal courage and won much fame in an 
engagement which his ship had with five merchant 
vessels." 

" Ah ha," said little Renee, " this is indeed life. I 
am having a good time." 

So well did those higher in command feel towards 
the youthful sailor, that, at the age of eighteen, he was 
actually put in charge of the ship Danycan of fourteen 
gims, — for France was at war with England, Hol- 
land, and Spain, and to him who could strike a quick 
and well-aimed blow there were " nice pickings " to 



DU aUAY-TROUIN 119 

be had. And the reckless young sea-dog found some 
" nice pickings " in Ireland, for, he landed an armed 
party upon the coast of County Clare, where he pil- 
laged a village, burned two ships at anchor, and es- 
caped to his own vessel with considerable booty 
and family heirlooms of the peasants, who said, 
" Och, Begorra ! We'll be afther that wild bhoy 
before many suns, and spank him for his unseemly 
whork." 

But the French cried " Voila ! Here, indeed, is a 
brave young Bourgeois," and promptly raised him to 
the command of the Coctqucn of eighteen guns, in 
which he soon went cruising, accompanied by a sister- 
ship, the St. Aaron. 

Prowling around the English channel, the skulking 
sea-hounds soon came across two small English men- 
of-war with five valuable merchantmen under their 
sheltering wings. ' 

"All ready for the attack!" shouted Du Guay- 
Trouin. " We'll make mince-meat of those foreien 
hulks, in spite of the fact that they are protected by 
two men-of-war." 

And, crowding on all sail, his own vessel and the 
St. Aaron quickly bore down upon the Englishmen, 
who, seeing them approach, hove-to for action. 

The engagement was short. After a few broad- 
sides had been delivered, the English struck, the prizes 
were taken over, and all started for the coast of 
France. But suddenly a cry went up, 

" Sail ho ! Sail ho ! off the starboard bow ! " 

" Ta Done," cried the surprised Du Guay-Trouin. 



120 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" It is a big liian-of-warsman and a Britisher too. 
We must give up our prizes, I fear. Clap on all can- 
vas and we'll hie us to shore." 

So all sail was hoisted, and, steering for the shoals 
and rocks off Lundy Island — where he knew that 
the heavy Englishman could not follow — Du Guay- 
Trouin soon outdistanced and outwitted the Cen- 
turion: a line-of-battle ship and a formidable oppo- 
nent. The rich prizes had to be left behind. 

Honorable appointments crowded upon the daring, 
young sea-dog, after this affair, and we find him suc- 
cessively in command of the Profond, of thirty-two 
guns; the Hercide, of twenty-eight guns, and the 
Diligentc of thirty-six guns and two hundred and 
fifty sailors, which was a King's ship borrowed for 
privateering and run on shares, — the monarch to 
have a certain part of the winnings. 

Like partners in business the Diligente and Hercule 
now went cruising, and it was not long before the 
two harpies swooped down upon their prey in the 
shape of two Dutch East Indiamen, armed with 
twenty-five guns each, and manned by rotund-bodied 
Dutchmen. There was rich treasure aboard, and, with 
eagerness and zeal, the Frenchmen slapped on all can- 
vas in pursuit. 

Now was a hot chase. Mile after mile was passed, 
and slowly but surely the Frenchmen gained upon the 
lumbering foe. Then suddenly, — 

Crash ! 

A ball screamed above the head of Du Guay- 
Trouin, and a Dutchman hove-to for battle. 



DU GUAY-TEOUIN 121 

" Crawl in close," cried the valiant Frenchman, 
" and don't let go a broadside until you can hit 'em 
below the water line. Try to scuttle the Dutch lum- 
ber merchant! " 

His men obeyed him willingly and soon there was 
a muffled roar as the first broadside spoke in the still 
air. Another and another followed, and the Dutch- 
man trembled like an aspen leaf. 

" Hah," shouted the enthusiastic Renee, " up goes 
the white flag!" 

Sure enough, the vessel struck, and aboard of her 
was the Dutch commodore. But the Hercule was 
beaten off by the second Dutchman, and, as the pri- 
vateers boarded the captured vessel, the East India- 
man showed a clean pair of heels, under a cloud of 
bellying canvas. 

Du Guay-Trouin was delighted. " On we go, 
Boys," he cried, " for we'll sail these waters until we 
strike another prize." And this is what soon hap- 
pened. 

On May the 12th, the Diligente was cruising alone, 
when, suddenly six white dots appeared upon the 
horizon, and six British ships-of-the-line were soon 
closing in upon the venturous French navigator and 
his crew. 

" Ye Gods," cried the doughty Frenchman, " we're 
in for it now, but we will give them a lively bout even 
though we'll get the worst of it." 

And here is how he has described the battle : 
" One of the English ships named Adventure first 
overtook me, and we maintained a running fight for 



122 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

nearly four hours, before any other of their ships 
could come up. . . . 

"At length my two topmasts were shot away; on 
which the Adventure ranged up alongside me, a short 
pistol-shot off, and hauled up her courses. Seeing 
her so near, it occurred to me to run foul of her and 
board her with my whole crew. Forthwith I ordered 
such of the officers as were near to send the people on 
deck, got ready the grapnels, and put the helm over. 

" We were just on the point of hooking on to her, 
when unfortunately, one of my Lieutenants, looking 
out through a port and seeing the two ships so close 
together, took it into his head that there was some 
mistake, as he could not think that — under the cir- 
cumstances — "I had any intention of boarding; and 
so, of himself, ordered the helm to be reversed. 

" I had no idea of what had been done, and was 
impatiently waiting for the two ships to clash together, 
ready to throw myself on board the enemy; but see- 
ing that my ship did not obey her helm, I ran to the 
wheel, and found it liad been changed without my 
order. 

" I had it again jammed hard on ; liut perceived, 
with the keenest vexation, that the captain of the 
Adventure, having guessed by the expression of my 
face what I had meant to do, had let fall his courses, 
and was sheering off. We had been so near that my 
bowsprit had broken his taffrail ; but the mistake of 
my Lieutenant made me lose the opportunity of one 
of the most surprising adventures ever heard tell of. 

" In the determination I was in to perish or to cap- 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 123 

ture this ship, which was much the fastest sailor of the 
squadron, it was more than probable that I should have 
succeeded, and should thus have taken back to France 
a much stronger ship than that which I abandoned. 
And, not to speak of the credit which would have 
attached to the execution of such a plan, it is quite 
certain that — being dismasted — there was absolutely 
no other way for me to escape from forces so su- 
perior." 

But closer — always closer — crowded the British 
war-dogs, and the valorous French seamen became 
panic stricken. " We are out-numbered and out- 
fought," cried many, and, deserting their guns, they 
fled below to the holds, in spite of the vigorous protests 
of Du Guay-Trouin. 

" I was busy trying to put a stop to the panic," 
says he. " I had cut down one and pistolled another, 
when, to crown my misfortune, fire broke out in the 
gun-room. The fear of being blown up made it neces- 
sary for me to go below ; but, having got the fire put 
out, I had a tub full of grenades brought me, and 
began throwing them down into the hold. 

" By this means I compelled the deserters to come 
up and to man some of the lower deck guns ; but, 
when I went up on the poop, I found, to my astonish- 
ment and vexation, that some cowardly rascal had 
taken advantage of my absence to haul down the 
colors. 

" I ordered them to be hoisted again ; but my of- 
ficers represented that to do so would be simply giv- 
ing up the remnant of my ship's company to be 



124 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

butchered by the English, who would give no quarter 
if the flag were hoisted again, after being struck for 
so long, and that further resistance was hopeless as 
the ship was dismasted." 

" Never give in, for " — cried Du Guay-Trouin, 
whose democratic blood was now up, but he did not 
finish the sentence as a spent shot then knocked him 
senseless. And — as he fell — the white flag went 
aloft, for his officers had not his fighting spirit. 

" Ah ha," laughed the English jack tars. " We've 
got the French rascal at last, and w^e'll hold him 
too." 

So little Renee was imprisoned in a nice, dark 
dungeon, — the kind which the English used to put 
their poor debtors in. But — like a true man of cour- 
age — little Renee escaped, took to a smuggler's skiff, 
and made off to the coast of France, where he arrived 
on the 1 8th of June, 1694, and was received right 
boisterously by the Trouin family. 

" My son," spoke his aged mother, " you were 
indeed not intended for the law, for lawlessness seems 
to be your particular fancy." 

So the delighted Trouins put him in charge of a 
splendid privateersman mounting forty-eight guns, 
sailing under the simple name of Francois, and, as 
she forged valiantly into the English channel, her 
skipper chanted an old French song, which ran, — 

" Sons of St. Malo, hark to my lay, 
With a Heave ! Ho ! Blow the man down. 
For we'll capture a lugger ere close of the day. 
With a Heave ! Ho ! Blow the man down. 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 126 

" She's filled with gold nuggets, her crew is asleep, 
Then board her, and take her, for dead men are cheap, 
We'll spike them and pike them, like so many sheep. 
With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down." 

It was not long before a sail was sighted, and, on 
the I2th day of January, 1695, the stout, little Francois 
overhauled a solitary timber ship, loaded with huge 
trees, bound to England from the good town of Bos- 
ton in New England. She was an easy capture, and, 
Du Guay-Trouin smiled with joy when her skipper 

said : 

" Three other lumber ships are in the offing. But 
they are under convoy of the frigate Nonsuch with 
forty-eight guns, and the Falcon with thirty-eight 
cannon. Look out my bold sea-dog, there'll be 
trouble." 

But the French mariner laughed. 

" It's just what I'm searching for," said he, and 
forthwith he swung the stout Francois in wide circles, 
with look-outs at every masthead. 

"Sail ho!" shouted the watch, next morn, and 
there, off the port bow, were the three merchantmen 
strung out in a line, with the two protecting gun- 
boats to windward. 

Like a greyhound the Francois swept down upon 
them, and with the audacity of despair, the privateers- 
man of St. Malo ranged alongside of the Falcon and 
opened fire. The engagement was short. In an hour's 
time the guns of the Englishman were silent and a 
white pennon fluttered from the mizzen-mast. 

The Nonsuch, meanwhile, had been ranging to 



126 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

windward in a vain endeavor to bring her guns to 
bear upon the Frenchman without crippHng her own 
mate, and — as the Francois drifted away from the 
lurching- Falcon — she bore down to within twent)' 
yards, Uiffed, and spanked a rakish broadside into 
the privateer. 

" Board her! " shouted Du Guay-Trouin. " Board 
her ! " and, bringing the wheel close around, he swung 
the bow of the Francois into the side of the English- 
man. But, as the sailors scampered to the bulwarks 
with cutlass and with dirk, a sheet of flame burst from 
the port-holes of the drifting A'Onsitch. She was afire. 

" Luff ! Luff ! " cried the keen-eyed French mari- 
ner, and the Francois drew a\vay as the red flames 
curled upward with a cruel hiss. 

With a swift turn the helm again spun over, under 
the quick hand of Du Guay-Trouin, and the Francois 
Avas jibed about in order to run under the port bow 
of the Englishman. 

"Hold, Captain!" cried a French Lieutenant. 
" We. ourselves, are afire! " 

As he spoke — a direful cloud of vapor rolled from 
the starboard quarter. 

" Alack ! " answered the now^ furious Renee. " This 
puts an end to the fighting of this day, and w^e'd soon 
have had the second Britisher. All hands below^ and 
bucket out this fire ! " 

So, as night fell upon the rolling ocean, the Falcon 
lay drifting helplessly, while the Nonsuch and the 
Francois were burning like two beacons upon a jut- 
ting headland. 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 127 

As day broke, the Francois filled away ( for the fire 
had been extinguished after an hour's toil) and ranged 
within striking distance of the Nonsuch. A broad- 
side belched from her starboard guns and an answer- 
ing roar came back from the cannon of the English- 
man. The fore and main masts of the Nonsuch trem- 
bled for a moment — then tottered and fell — while 
the gallant Captain, struck in the chest by a flying 
piece of shell, fell dying upon the deck. Du Guay- 
Trouin again attempted to board, at this moment, but 
the third mast was shaking and he was forced to 
sheer off lest the tangle of yards and rigging should 
fall and crush his vessel. He hung within hailing 
distance of the crippled sea-warrior, and, seeing that 
his antagonist was now^ helpless, cried out through 
his trumpet : 

" Run up the white flag, or I'll give you a broad- 
side that will sink you." 

No answering hail came from the deck of the bat- 
tered Nonsuch, but the piece of a torn, white shirt 
was soon fluttering from the tangled rigging of the 
foremast. Thus the gallant Renee had defeated two 
Vv'arships of equal strength, and had captured vessels 
with a rich and valuable cargo. Now, don't you think 
that this fellow was a doughty sea rover? And, al- 
though the English made many excuses, the fact still 
remains that a single privateer had conquered double 
her own force in a fair and open fight upon the high 
seas. 

The sturdy Francois could just barely drift into St. 
Male — so badly crippled was she — but the rest came 



128 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

safely to port, in spite of a hard gale which blew down 
the masts of two of the lumber boats. And doughty 
Renee refitted the Nonsuch, transferred his flag to 
her, called her the Sans-Parcil, and flung his flag de- 
fiantly from her mast-head in spite of the fact that 
she was " made in England." All France was agog 
over his exploit. 

Now, know you, that doughty Renee was a 
" Blue; " a " Blue " being a man of the people (the 
bourgeoisie) who were not of aristocratic birth. And, 
as the French Royal Marine was the most exclusive 
body of officers in the world, birth and station being 
necessary for admittance therein, the titled ofifice- 
holders threw up their hands when Du Guay-Trouin's 
name was mentioned for a place of command, say- 
ing, — 

" Why, he's only a beastly Democrat. Pooh ! Bah ! 
We do not care to have such a fellow among us." 
And they shrugged their shoulders. 

The officers of the French Royal Marine wore red 
breeches, and, if by chance a democrat were given 
a commission, he had to appear in blue small-clothes 
throughout his entire career. Very few of the 
" Blues " ever came to be an Admiral, for the odds 
were too great against them. 

But Renee had done so bravely and well that a 
sword was sent him by the King, who wrote, — 

" Should you wish a commission in the Royal Navy, 
good sir, it shall be yours." 

And to this, Du Guay-Trouin replied, — 

" I feel that I can do better where I am, Most 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 129 

Gracious Majesty. II will remain a Privateer." For 
Du Guay-Trouin wished to accumulate riches, as his 
forebears had done. 

So, cruising down the coast of Ireland, he fell in 
with three East Indiamen, whom he captured with 
ease, and, piloting them to St. Malo, declared a div- 
idend of two thousand pounds ($10,000) a share, to 
the stockholders in his staunch vessel. And the value 
of the shares was but one hundred pounds ($500) 
each. Would not the men of Wall Street love such 
a fellow in these piping times of peace? 

A month later we find him cruising in the Bay of 
Biscay, where — in the dead of night — he ran into 
a great English fleet, roving about for just such ves- 
sels as the Sans-Pareil and eager for a broadside at 
the French privateer. But young Renee — for he was 
now twenty- three — had not lost his nerve. " There 
was no time," he wrote, " for hesitation. I had two 
valuable prizes with me and ordered them to hoist 
Dutch colors and to run away to leeward, saluting 
me with seven guns each as they went. 

" Trusting to the goodness and soundness of the 
Sans-Pareil I stood towards the fleet, as boldly and 
as peaceably as if I had really been one of their num- 
ber, rejoining them after having spoken the Dutch- 
men. Two capital ships and a thirty-six gun frigate 
had at first left the fleet to overhaul me ; but, on see- 
ing what I was doing, the ships returned to their 
stations ; the frigate — impelled by her unlucky fate 
— ■ persisted in endeavoring to speak the two prizes, 
and I saw that she was rapidly coming up with them. 



130 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" I had by this time joined the fleet, tranquil enough 
in appearance, though inwardly I was fuming at the 
prospect of my two prizes being taken by the frigate; 
and, as I perceived that my ship sailed much 
better than those of the enemy who were near me, 
I kept away little by little, at the same time fore- 
reaching on them. Suddenly, bearing up, I ran 
down to place myself between the prizes and the 
frigate. 

" I should have liked to lay aboard of her and carry 
her in sight of the whole fleet ; but her captain, being 
suspicious, would not let me get within musket-shot 
of him, and sent his boat to help me. But, when the 
boat was half way, her people made out that we w^ere 
French, and turned to go back ; on which, seeing that 
we were discovered, I hoisted my white flag and 
poured my broadside into the frigate. 

" She answered with hers ; but. not being able to 
sustain my fire, she hauled her wind, and with a signal 
of distress flying, stood to meet the captain's ship, 
which hastily ran down towards us. As they stopped 
to render her assistance, and to pick up her boat, I 
was able to rejoin my prizes, and, without misad- 
venture, to take them to Port Louis." 

Again France rang with acclaim for the hero of 
this bold exploit, and again the King offered a com- 
mission to the gallant sea-dog. But Du Guay-Trouin 
shook his head. 

" Perhaps I will become an officer in the Royal 
Marine later on," said he. " But not now. I am too 
happy and successful as a Privateer." 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 131 

He was quite right, for in March, 1697, was his 
greatest exploit. 

While busily scanning the horizon for sail in the 
St. Jacques des Vict aires, upon the thirteenth day of 
that auspicious month, he saw upon the horizon, a 
cluster of vessels. They drew near and proved to be 
the Dutch East India fleet convoyed by two fifty-gun 
ships and a thirty-gun sloop-of-war. With him was 
the Sans-Pareil of forty-eight guns, and the little 
sloop-of-war Lenore, mounting fourteen. The hos- 
tile squadron was formidable, and Du Guay-Trouin 
hesitated to attack. 

In command of the Dutch vessels was Baron van 
Wassenaer, one of a family of famous sea-fighters 
from Holland, and he manoeuvred his ships with con- 
summate skill; always interposing his own vessel be- 
tween the French privateer and his fleet of merchant- 
men. 

" Ah-ha," cried gallant Renee, at this moment. 
" Here come some of my own boys." 

And — sure enough — from the direction of France, 
and boiling along under full canvas, rolled two pri- 
vateersmen of St. Malo. Cheer after cheer went up 
from the deck of the St. Jacques des Victoires, as they 
pounded through the spray, for this made the con- 
tending parties about equal, although the Dutch boats 
were larger, heavier, and they had more guns aboard. 

The Dutchmen now formed in line. In front was 
the flagship — the Delft — with her fifty gims glow- 
ering ominously from the port-holes; second was the 
thirty-gun frigate; and third, the other war-hound 



132 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

of fifty guns : the Hondslaardjiik. Through a trum- 
pet Du Guay-Trouin shrilled his orders. 

" The Sans-Pareil will attack the Hondslaardjiik," 
cried he. " The two privateers will hammer the frig- 
ate, while I and the St. Jacques dcs Victoires will 
attend to the Delft. The Lenore will sail in among 
the convoy. Fight, and fight to win! " 

A fine breeze rippled the waves. The two squad- 
rons were soon at each others' throats, and there upon 
the sobbing ocean a sea-fight took place which was 
one of the most stubborn of the ages. 

As the Frenchmen closed in upon the Dutch, the 
Hondslaardjiik suddenly left the line and crashed a 
broadside into the St. Jacques des Victoires. It stag- 
gered her, but she kept on, and — heading straight for 
her lumbering antagonist — ran her down. A split- 
ting of timber, a crunch of boards, a growl of mus- 
ketry, and, with a wild cheer, the Frenchmen leaped 
upon the deck of the Dutch warship; Du Guay- 
Trouin in the lead, a cutlass in his right hand, a spit- 
ting pistol in the left. 

Crash! Crackle! Crash! An irregular fire of 
muskets and pistols sputtered at the on-coming board- 
ers. But they were not to be stopped. With fierce, 
vindictive cheers the privateers of St. Malo hewed a 
passage of blood across the decking, driving the 
Dutchmen below, felling them upon the deck in wind- 
rows, and seizing the commander himself by the coat 
collar, after his cutlass had been knocked from his 
stalwart hand. The Dutchman was soon a prize, and 
her proud ensign came fluttering to the decking. 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 133 

But things were not going so well in other quar- 
ters. Disaster had attended the dash of the Sans- 
Parcil upon the Delft. An exploding shell had set her 
afire and she lay derelict with a cloud of drifting 
smoke above, when suddenly, Crash! 

A terrible explosion shook the staunch, little ves- 
sel, her sides belched outward, and a number of sail- 
ors came shooting through the air, for a dozen loose 
cartridge boxes had been caught by the roaring flames. 
Helplessly she lolled in the sweep of the gray, lurching 
billows. 

" Hah ! " shouted Van Wassenaer, as he saw his 
work. " Now for the saucy Du Guay-Trouin," and, 
twisting the helm of the Sans-Parcil, he soon neared 
the St. Jacques des Victoires, which was hanging to 
the Delft like a leech, firing broadside after broadside 
with clock-like precision, her sea-dogs cheering as 
the spars crackled, the rigging tore; and splinters 
ricochetted from her sides. 

" Ready about ! " cried Renee, wiping the sweat 
from his brow, " and board the Hondslaardjiik. 
Now for Van Wassenaer and let us show the 
Dutchman how a privateer from St. Malo can 
battle." 

So, luffing around in the steady breeze, the priva- 
teersman rolled ominously towards the lolling Delft. 
A crash, a sputter of pistols, a crushing of timber, and 
grappling hooks had pinioned the two war-dogs in a 
sinister embrace. And — with a wild yell — the 
Frenchmen plunged upon the reddened decking of the 
flagship of the courageous Van Wassenaer, who cried. 



134 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Never give in, Lads! What will they think of this 
in Holland!" 

There was a different reception than when the pri- 
vateers rushed the Hondslaardjiik. The Dutch fought 
like wildcats. Three times the cheering, bleeding 
Frenchmen stormed the planking, and three times 
they were hurled back upon the slippery deck of their 
own ship ; maddened, cursing, furious at their ina- 
bility to take the foreigner. " The conflict was very 
bloody both by the very heavy fire on both sides, of 
guns, muskets, and grenades," says Du Guay-Trouin, 
" and by the splendid courage of the Baron Van 
Wassenaer, who received me with astonishing bold- 
ness." 

" Bear away," ordered the courageous Dutchman, 
at this juncture. " We must have time to recover and 
refit our ship." 

And — suiting the action to his words — the 
badly battered Delft filled, and crept well to lee- 
ward. 

Meanwhile the two privateers of St. Malo had cap- 
tured the frigate as she lay helpless; a white flag 
beckoning for a prize crew. 

"The Faluere will attack the Delft," shouted Du 
Guay-Trouin, running near the largest of these; a 
ship of thirty-eight guns. " I must have time to 
breathe and to refit." 

But stubborn Van Wassenaer was ready for his new 
antagonist. He received the privateer with such a 
furious fire that she turned tail and fled to leeward ; 
her captain bleeding upon the poop, her crew cursing 



DU GUAY-TROUIN 135 

the blood which ran in the veins of the valorous 
Hollander. 

Du Guay-Trouin had now recovered his breath. 
Again the bellying canvas of the St. Jacques des 
Victoires bore her down upon the Delft, and again 
the two war-dogs wrapped in deadly embrace. Hear 
the invincible Frenchman's own account of the final 
assault : 

" With head down," he writes, " I rushed against 
the redoubtable Baron, resolved to conquer or to 
perish. The last action was so sharp and so bloody 
that every one of the Dutch officers was killed or 
wounded. Wassenaer, himself, received four danger- 
ous wounds and fell on his quarterdeck, where he was 
seized by my own brave fellows, his sword still in his 
hand. 

" The Faliiere had her share in the engagement, run- 
ning alongside of me, and sending me forty men on 
board for reinforcement. More than half of my own 
crew perished in this action. I lost in it one of my 
cousins, first Lieutenant of my own ship, and two 
other kinsmen on board the Sans-Pareil, with many 
other officers killed or wounded. It was an awful 
butchery." 

But at last he had won, and the victorious pennon 
of the Privateer fluttered triumphant over the bat- 
tered hulks which barely floated upon the spar-strewn 
water. 

" The horrors of the night," he writes, " the dead 
and dying below, the ship scarcely floating, the swell- 
ing waves threatening each moment to engulf her, the 



136 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

wild howling of the storm, and the iron-bound coast 
of Bretagne to leeward, were all together such as to 
try severely the courage of the few remaining officers 
and men. 

" At daybreak, however, the wind went down ; we 
found ourselves near the Breton coast; and, upon 
our firing guns and making signals of distress, a num- 
ber of boats came to our assistance. In this manner 
was the St. Jacques taken into Port Louis, followed in 
the course of the day by the three Dutch ships-of- 
war, twelve of the merchant ships, the Lenorc, and 
the two St. Malo privateers. The Sans-Parcil did not 
get in till the next day, after having been twenty times 
upon the point of perishing by fire and tempest." 

Thus ended the great fight of Renee Du Guay- 
Trouin, whose blood, you see, was quite as blue as 
his breeches. 

" Again," wrote His Majesty the King, " do I offer 
you a commission in the Royal Navy, Du Guay- 
Trouin. Will you accept? This time it is a Cap- 
taincy." 

" I do," replied little Renee, — quite simply — and, 
at the next dinner of the officers of the Royal Ma- 
rines, they sang a chorus, which ran : 

" Oh, yes, he's only a Democrat, his blood is hardly blue, 
Oh, Sacra Nom de Dieii ! Sapristi ! Eet is true ! 
But he's a jolly tar dog, with dirk and pistol, too, 
He fights like William the Conqueror, he fights! 
Egad ! that's true ! 
A health to Renee the terrible; soldier and sailor too." 



EDWARD ENGLAND 
TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS 

{i6go?- about 1725) 



" A Privateer's not a Buccaneer, but they're pretty chummy 
friends, 
One flies a reg'lar ensign, there's nothing tliat offends. 
One sails 'neath Letters Legal, t'other 'neath Cross-Boncs, 
But, both will sink you, Sailor, or my name's not Davy Jones." 

— Old Ballad. 



EDWARD ENGLAND 

TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS 

{i6go?- about 1725) 

" If England wuz but wind an' paint, 
How we'd hate him. 
But he ain't." 

— Log of the Royal James. 

" X X IT him with a bottle, he deserves it, th' 

I I brute!" 

The man who spoke was a thick-set sailor 
of some forty-five summers, with a swarthy skin, a 
brownish mat of hair, a hard visage, and a cut across 
one eye. He stood upon the deck of a good-sized 
brig, which was drowsily lolling along the coast of 
Africa. 

" Yes, he treated us like dogs aboard th' Cuttlefish. 
Here, give me a shot at 'im." 

Thus cried another sailor — a toughish customer 
also — and, as his voice rang out, a dozen more came 
running to the spot. 

Cringing before the evil gaze of the seamen stood 
the Captain of a Bristol merchantman — the Cadogan 
— which lay a boat's length away, upon the glassy 
surface of a rocking sea. 

Again rang out the harsh tones of him who had 
first spoken. 

139 



140 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

" Ah, Captain Skinner, it is you, eh ? You are the 
very person I wished to see. I am much in your debt, 
and I shall pay you in your own coin." 

The poor Captain trembled in every joint, and said, 
with a curious chattering of his teeth, 

" Yes, Edward England, you've got me now. But 
go easy like, will yer? I always was a friend o' 
yourn." 

" Yer didn't look like a friend on th' old Jamaica, 
when you refused to pay me my wages," interrupted 
the first speaker. " Yer didn't remove me to 'er cursed 
man-o'-warsman, did yer? Yer didn't see that I got 
th' cat-o'-nine-tails on my back, did yer? Now, 
Mr. Skinner, it's my chance ter get even. Tie 
him ter th' windlass, boys, and we'll fix th' feller's 
hash." 

With a jeering laugh the sailors seized the fright- 
ened man, roped him tightly to the desired prop, and, 
procuring a lot of glass bottles, pelted him with them 
until their arms were tired. 

" You wuz a good master to me, Captain Skinner," 
cried one. " Now you're gettin' a dose of your own 
medicine. Overboard with him, Boys." 

And, suiting the action to the words, he seized him 
by the collar. The ropes were unwound. The poor 
wretch was dragged to the rail, and, as his body spun 
out into the oily sea, a shot ended the life of poor 
Thomas Skinner of the Cadogan from Bristol. Cap- 
tain Edward England and his men had had a sweet 
and sure revenge. 

Where this reckless mariner was born, it is diFfi- 



EDWARD ENGLAND 141 

cult to ascertain. We know that he started hfe hon- 
estly enough, for he was mate of a sloop that sailed 
from Jamaica, about the year 171 5, and was taken 
by a pirate called Captain Winter. The youthful 
sailor soon took up the careless ways of his captors, 
and it was not many years before he became Captain 
of his own vessel : a sloop flying the black flag with 
a skull and cross-bones. 

Off the east coast of Africa he soon took a ship 
called the Pearl, for which he exchanged his own 
sloop, fitting the new vessel up for piratical service, 
after rechristening her the Royal James. Cruising 
about in this staunch craft, he captured several ships 
of different sizes and flying the flags of many nations. 
He was rich and prosperous. 

" Captain," said one of his reckless followers, at 
this time, " man-o'-warsmen are gettin' too thick in 
these parts for an honest sailor. Let's get across th' 
pond to th' Brazilian coast." 

" You're quite right," answered England. " We've 
got to look for other pickings. After we provision-up, 
we'll sail towards th' setting sun. That's a fresh field 
and we can have it to ourselves." 

So all made ready for a trans-Atlantic voyage. 

But Captain England was in error when he said 
that he was sailing for fields which had never before 
been touched. Two other piratical vessels : the Re- 
venge and the Flying King, had been cruising off the 
coast of Brazil, just before his advent. Fighting in 
partnership, they had taken two Portuguese schooners, 
and were making off with them, when a Portuguese 



142 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

man-o'-vvarsman came booming along under full can- 
vas. She was an unwelcome guest. 

Setting all sail the two pirates had attempted to 
get away and the Revenge succeeded in doing so. 
Two days later a typhoon struck her and she was 
soon swinging bottom upwards, with the kittiwakes 
shrieking over her barnacled keel. 

But the revengeful man-o'-warsman ploughed re- 
lentlessly after the Flying King, which could not fly 
quite fast enough, this time, and — in despair — was 
run, bows on, upon the shore, where the crew scram- 
bled to the sand in a desperate endeavor to get away. 
The sailors from the man-o'-warsman were speedy; 
they shot twelve of the buccaneers, took the rest 
prisoners (there were seventy in all) and hanged 
thirty-eight to the yard-arm. News of this came to 
Captain England when he neared the tropic coast of 
Brazil. 

" It's all in a life-time," said he. " If I'm captured, 
of course I'll swing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have 
a good life." 

Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome 
sound of : 

"Sail ho! Of¥ the port bow!" 

And raising the glass to his eye discovered 
two fat, prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping 
quietly along like an old maid fresh from market. 

"Slap on all sail and give chase!" was bellowed 
out in stentorian tones, and the Royal James was 
soon fairly boiling along with every stitch aloft, which 
she could carry. 



EDWARD ENGLAND 143 

As she neared the merchantmen, the names came 
plainly to view: the Peterborough of Bristol, and the 
Victory of Liverpool, but a shot screamed across the 
bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned into 
defeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast 
in a moment, for die Captain had no stomach for a 
fight. 

" Egad, it's a pirate," said the good seaman in 
despair, as the black flag with the skull and cross- 
bones fluttered from the rigging of his capturer. " I 
thought she was a privateersman under Letters of 
Marque. It's all up with us." 

As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing along- 
side he cried out, 

" Mercy ! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor 
wretches who sail with me." 

The pirates gufifawed, helped themselves to every- 
thing of value, and took the merchantmen with them 
to the coast of Brazil, where the crew were allowed 
to escape to the shore. The Peterborough was re- 
christened the Victory and was manned by half of 
England's crew, while the other vessel was burned at 
night; the pirates dancing on the beach to the light 
of the flames and singing the weird songs of the sea. 

Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Bra- 
zilian coast; but the natives grew angry at the con- 
duct of these rough men of the ocean. 

" Ugh ! " spoke a chief, " we must drive them away, 
else they will burn our own villages as they did their 
houses upon the water." 

One peaceful evening the followers of Captain Eng- 



144 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

land were hard beset by fully a thousand black-skinned 
warriors from the Brazilian jungle. 

There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed 
back upon their principal town and were driven 
through it on the run, for their arrows and spears 
were not as effective as the guns and pistols of the 
English, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had 
adopted a piratical career. Their thatched huts were 
set on fire, and, satisfied with the day's work, the 
pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was cast 
where was to be their next venture. It fell to the 
East Indies and the Island of Madagascar. So they 
set sail, singing an old ballad which ran, 

"Heave the lead and splice th' topsail, 
Tie her down, and let her fill, 
We're agoin' to Madagascar, 
Where th' little tom-tits trill, 

" Bill an' coo, an' sing so sweetly, 
In th' dronin' hours of noon, 
That you want to die there, neatly, 
Just drop ofif into 'er swoon." 

The voyage across was a good one and the pirates 
captured two East Indiamen and a Dutchman, bound 
to Bombay. These they exchanged for one of their 
own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island, 
where several of their hands were set ashore with 
tents and ammunition, to kill such beasts and venison 
as the place afforded. 

Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna, — not a 
great distance from Madagascar, — and here had as 



EDWARD ENGLAND 145 

keen a little engagement as ever employed a piratical 
crew. Hear the story of this fight in the words of 
Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened 
at that time to be in the harbor. 

" Bombay, November i6th, 1720. 

" We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company 
with the Greenzvich, at Juanna, an island not far from 
Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men, 
we found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes 
from the Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to 
which they belonged, the Indian Queen — two hun- 
dred and fifty tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by 
Captain Oliver de la Bouche, bound from the Guinea 
coast to the East Indies — had been bulged ( run 
ashore) and lost. They said they left the Captain 
and forty men building a new vessel, to proceed upon 
their wicked designs. 

" Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be 
of great service to the East India Company to des- 
troy such a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this 
purpose on the 17th of August, about eight o'clock 
in the morning, when we discovered two pirates stand- 
ing into the Bay of Juanna, one of thirty-four and 
the other of thirty-six guns. 

" I immediately went on board the Greenwich where 
tliey seemed very diligent in preparation for an en- 
gagement, and I left Captain Kirby with mutual 
understanding of standing by each other. T then un- 
moored, got under sail, and brought two boats ahead 
to row me close to the Greenzvich; but he being open 



146 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

to a breeze, made the best of his way from me ; which 
an Ostender in our company of twenty-two guns, 
seeing, did the same, though the Captain had prom- 
ised heartily to engage with us, and, I beHeve would 
have been as good as his word, if Captain Kirby had 
kept his. 

" About half an hour after twelve, I called several 
times to the Greenwich to bear down to our assistance, 
and fired a shot at him, but to no purpose ; for, though 
we did not doubt but he would join us, because, when 
he got about a league from us he brought his ship 
to and looked on ; yet both he and the Ostender basely 
deserted us, and left us engaged with barbarous and 
inhuman enemies, with their black and bloody flags 
hanging over us, without the least appearance of ever 
escaping, but to be cut to pieces. 

" But God in his good providence, determined 
otherwise; for, notwithstanding their superiority, we 
engaged them both about three hours, during which 
time the biggest of them received some shot betwixt 
wind and water, which made her keep a little off, to 
stop her leaks. The other endeavored all she could 
to board us, by rowing with her oars, being within 
half a ship's length of us about an hour; but, by good 
fortune, we shot all her oars to pieces, which prevented 
them from getting in close, and consequently saved our 
lives. 

" About four o'clock most of the officers and men 
posted on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded, 
the largest ship made up to us with diligence, after 
giving us a broadside. There now being no hopes of 




LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES. 



EDWARD ENGLAND 147 

Captain Kirby's coming to our assistance, we endeav- 
ored to run ashore; and though we drew four feet 
of water more than the pirate, it pleased God that he 
stuck fast on a higher ground than happily we fell in 
with ; so was disappointed a second time from board- 
ing us. 

" Here we had a more violent engagement than 
before. All of my officers and most of my men be- 
haved with unexpected courage ; and, as we had a 
considerable advantage by having a chance to hurl a 
broadside into his bow, we did him great damage. 
Had Captain Kirby come in then, I believe we should 
have taken both the vessels, for we had one of them, 
sure. 

" The other pirate (who was still firing at us) see- 
ing the Grecniiich did not offer to assist us, supplied 
his consort with three boats full of fresh men. About 
five in the evening the Greenzvich stood clear away to 
sea, leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very 
jaws of death ; which the other pirate that was afloat, 
seeing, got a hawser out, and began to haul under our 
stern. 

" By this time many of my men were being killed 
and wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being 
all murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I or- 
dered all that could to get into the long-boat, under 
the cover of the smoke from our guns ; so that, with 
what some did in boats, and others by swimming, most 
of us that were able got ashore by seven o'clock. 

" When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of 
our wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my 



148 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

people, made what haste I could to Kings-town, 
twenty-five miles from us; where I arrived next day, 
almost dead with the fatigue and loss of blood, hav- 
ing been sorely wounded in the head by a musket- 
ball. 

" At this town I heard that the pirates had offered 
ten thousand dollars to the country people to bring 
me in, which many of them would have accepted, only 
they knew that the king and all his chief people were 
in my interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to l>e 
circulated that I was dead of my wounds, which much 
abated their fury. 

" We had, in all. thirteen killed and twenty-four 
wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about 
ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded 
that, had our consort the Grccmvich done her duty, 
we could have destroyed both of them, and got two 
hundred thousand pounds ($1,000,000.00) for our 
owners and ourselves." 

What say you to this fight ? And to think that our 
own good friend Captain Mackra just missed being 
a millionaire ! Weep for the gallant sea warrior ! 

At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going 
aboard one of the piratical vessels, — under a flag 
of truce — he discovered that several of the wild sea- 
robbers knew him; some of them — even — had 
sailed with him in earlier years. 

" I found this to be of great advantage," he writes. 
" For, notwithstanding their promise not to harm me, 
some of them would have cut me to pieces, had it not 



EDWARD ENGLAND 149 

been for their chief, Captain Edward England, and 
some others whom I knew." 

And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect 
that: " They made me a present of the shattered ship 
— which was Dutch buih — called the Fancy, — her 
burden being about three hundred tons. 

" With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they 
left me, I set sail on September Sth, with forty-three 
of my ship's crew, including two passengers and 
twelve soldiers. After a passage of forty-eight days 
I arrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost 
naked and starved, having been reduced to a pint of 
water a day, and almost in despair of ever seeing 
land, by reason of the calms we met with between the 
coast of Arabia and Malabar." 

The gallant writer of this interesting description 
was certainly in imminent danger of his life, when he 
trusted himself upon the pirate ship, and unquestion- 
ably nothing could have justified such a hazardous 
step but the desperate circumstances in which he was 
placed. The honor and influence of Captain England, 
however, protected him and his men from the wrath 
of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their 
vengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy 
blows in the recent fight. 

But the generosity of Captain England toward the 
unfortunate Mackra proved to be calamitous to him- 
self. 

" You are no true pirate," cried one of his crew. 
" For a buccaneer never allows his foes to get away." 

"No! No!" shouted others. "This fighting 



150 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Mackra will soon come against us with a strong force. 
You did wrong in letting him escape." 

" To the yard-arm with the traitor ! " sounded from 
the throat of many a ruffianly seaman. 

Thus grew the feeling of mutiny — and the result 
of these murmurs of discontent — was that Captain 
England was put ashore by the cruel villains; and, 
with three others was marooned upon the island of 
Mauritius. Had they not been destitute of every 
necessity they might have been able to live in comfort, 
for the island abounds in deer, hogs, and other ani- 
mals. Dissatisfied, however, with this solitary situa- 
tion, Captain England and his three men exerted their 
industry and ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed 
to Madagascar, where they lived upon the generosity 
of some more fortunate piratical companions. 

But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating? 

" Away with this life," cried Captain England. " I 
pine for more treasure and for battle. Let's out and 
to sea!" 

" Good ! Good ! " said his mates. " Let's ship 
aboard another vessel and get away from here." 

So, they again took to the ocean, but what became 
of Edward England is not known. 

Some say that he was killed in a brawl ; some that 
he was again marooned and was adopted by a savage 
tribe : some that he perished in a fight upon the In- 
dian Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soul 
is lost to history, and — somewhere — in the vast 
solitude of the Southern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching 
bones of him who had flaunted the skull-and-cross- 



EDWARD ENGLAND 151 

bones upon the wide highway of the gleaming wastes 
of sahy brine. His was a rough and careless life. 
Do not emulate the career of Edward England ! 

Near the straits of Madagascar ; near the sobbing oceans' roar, 
A ghostly shape ghdes nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn shore. — 
As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss. 
Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover's kiss. 
The flying-fishes scatter; the chattering magpies scream, 
The topaz hummers dart and dip; their jewelled feathers gleam. 
The mud-grimed hippos bellow ; the dove-eyed elands bleat, 
When the clank of steel disturbs them, and the beat of sandalled 

feet. 
The pirate crew is out to-night, no rest is for their souls. 
The blood of martyrs moves them ; they charge a million tolls. 
On! On! Their souls must hasten. On! On! Their shapes 

must go. 
While the limpid rushes quiver, and the beast-lapped waters glow. 
No rest for Captain England. No rest, for King or pawn, 
On ! On ! Their feet must wander. On ! On ! Forever on ! 



SONG OF THE PIRATE 

'To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave, 
Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave; 
Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared; 
Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared : 
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me. 
For the last of my duties, the powder-room key. 
It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear. 
If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air. 
Unshared have we left our last victory's prey ; 
It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey : 
There are shawls that might suit a Sultana's white neck. 
And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck; 
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose 
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose. 
I claim not a portion : I ask but as mine — 
But to drink to our victory — one cup of red wine. 
Some fight, 'tis for riches — some fight, 'tis for fame : 
The first I despise, and the last is a name. 
I fight 'tis for vengeance ! I love to see flow, 
At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe. 
I strike for the memory of long- vanished years; 
I only shed blood where another sheds tears, 
I come, as the lightning comes red from above, 
O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love." 



WOODES ROGERS 
THE BRISTOL MARINER 

(?-i736) 



If you want to win a lass, or a sea fight; don't cajole. Sail in ! 

— Old Proverb. 



WOODES ROGERS 

THE BRISTOL MARINER 

(?-i736) 

For he can fight a Spaniard, like a Tipperary cat, 

For he can sack a city, Hke a blazvsted, rangy rat ; 

Woodes Rogers was a Gentleman, from Bristol-town he sailed, 

An' his crew came from th' prisons, an' were 

Bailed, 
Bailed, 

Bailed. 

" X TES, you can have tlie Duke and the Duchess. 
I They are both staunch craft and we expect 
to get a good return for our investment in 
tliem." 

The fellow who spoke — a stout-bodied Quaker — 
looked quizzically at a bronzed sea-captain, who, cap 
in hand, stood before him. By his side were seated 
a number of merchants, — fat, sleek, contented-look- 
ing. They were giving instructions to Captain Woodes 
Rogers : their privateersman, who was about to make 
a voyage of adventure in their behalf. 

" My good friends," said the mariner, " I shall do 
my very best for you all. The French and Spaniards 
have been having it all their own way in the South 
seas. It is about time that the English had a share in 
the rich spoils of that treasure highway. I shall work 
my hardest for you." 

156 



156 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

The merchants, ship-owners and Quakers nodded. 

" May Providence guide your course aright," said 
they. And — as Captain Woodes Rogers went off to 
inspect his privateersmen — all indulged in a glass of 
Madeira to pledge " good luck and good health " to the 
staunch seaman from Bristol. 

It was not many weeks before the Duke (of three 
hundred and twenty tons) with thirty guns and one 
hundred and seventeen men, and the Duchess (of two 
hundred and sixty tons) with twenty-six guns and one 
hundred and eight men, sailed from King Road for 
Cork, in Ireland. 

" Egad! " cried Captain Rogers, as they passed out 
to sea. " Our rigging is slack. Our decks are 
lumbered up. Our stores are badly stowed. Our crew 
is so very mixed that I must stop in Ireland to get more 
able sea-dogs. Was ever captain in a worse fix ? " 

His Lieutenants grinned, for they saw that things 
were in a sorry mess, indeed. 

" Most of us have embraced this trip around the 
world in order to retrieve our fortunes," continued 
the captain. " Did you ever see a harder crew than 
this? There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers, pedlers, 
fiddlers, a negro and ten boys. None know how to use 
the cutlass and they haven't got any sea-legs. Well, 
well ; I'll make the best of it, but it's hard goin', I 
assure you." 

And still the Lieutenants grinned. 

They grinned still more when they had lain a few 
days at Cork, for the crew were continually marrying, 
although they expected to sail immediately. However, 



WOODES ROGERS 157 

as the two privateers got under way on September ist, 

— with the Hastings, a man-of-war — the majority of 
the crew drank a health tO' their spouses; waved their 
hands to them over the rail; and "parted uncon- 
cerned." Truly, a sailor has a lass in every port. 

Not many days after their out-going, a sail was 
sighted and all speed was made to capture her. The 
Swedish colors fluttered from her mast-head, and she 
hove to at the first gun. Rogers boarded. 

" No contraband goods are here," said he, after 
looking into the hold. " We must let her off." 

Then — turning to her captain — he said, 

" You can go. I am not a pirate — but a privateer 

— sailing under Letters of Marque. I only seize goods 
that are contraband." 

Bubbing and courtesying on the waves, the little 
Swede soon drifted from view. 

But the crew grew mutinous, — for had they not 
come out for plunder? The boatswain even called 
Rogers a traitor. 

" Seize the fellow and flog him," cried the sturdy 
captain. " Put ten of these talkative hounds in irons. 
We'll do the talking on this boat, and the sailors must 
do theirs in the fo'castle." 

Tliis was done immediately. 

Next day a seaman came aft, with near half the 
ship's company in his rear, and cried : 

" I demand the boatswain out of his irons. Captain 
Rogers. He's done nothing to deserve such a severe 
punishment." 

" Speak with me privately, on the quarter-deck," 



158 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

said the bluff commander. " I cannot discuss this 
matter with you in such a crowd." And he moved aft. 

The grumbler followed, but, no sooner was he alone 
with stout Woodes, than the captain sprang upon him 
with the agility of a leopard. He was thrown to the 
ground, held, and bound by two officers. Then he was 
stripped and whipped until the blood ran. 

" This method," writes the doughty Woodes, " I 
deemed best for breaking any unlawful friendship 
among the mutinous crew. It allayed the tumult, so 
that they began to submit quietly and those in irons 
begged my pardon, and promised amendment." 

Thus the captain had won the first round with the 
mutineers. 

Now, know you, that the War of the Spanish Suc- 
cession was then in progress ; a war in which one party 
was endeavoring to put the Archduke Charles of Aus- 
tria upon the Spanish throne ; another to place Philip, 
grandson of Louis XIV of France, in the chair of the 
rulers. And when — a few days later — the two priva- 
teers captured a small Spanish vessel, they found that 
their possession of it was disputed, when they sailed 
into the Canaries. 

" It has been agreed between Queen Anne of Eng- 
land and the Kings of Spain and France," said the 
Vice-Consul of that place — an Englishman — " that 
all vessels trading to the Canary Isles shall be exempt 
from interference by men-o'-war, or privateers. The 
prize must be released. If you do not do so, we will 
keep your agent, Mr. Vanbrugh, who has come ashore, 
and will throw him into irons." 



WOODES ROGERS 159 

But the Vice-Consul had reckoned without his host. 

" We are apprehensive that you are obhged to give 
us this advice in order to gratify the Spaniards," wrote 
Captain Rogers. "If you do not allow my agent to 
come on board my ship, you may expect a visit from 
my guns at eight o'clock to-morrow morn." 

To this there was no reply. 

Next day the two English privateers stood in close 
to shore, and, just as the shot was rammed home, a 
boat put off, in the stern of which sat Mr. Vanbrugh 
with a present of wine, grapes, hogs and jelly. The 
prize which had been captured was sent back to Bristol 
with a picked crew. 

The two sea-rovers bore towards the South — soon 
crossed the Tropic of Cancer — and there had appro- 
priate ceremonies for the occasion. The tinkers, ped- 
dlers fiddlers, and tailors who made up the crew, were 
each and all hoisted overboard by a rope. A stick 
was placed between their legs and they were ducked 
again and again in the brine. 

" If any man wants to get off," spoke Captain 
Rogers, " he can do so by paying me a half-a-sovereign 
($2.50) which must be expended on an entertainment 
for the rest of the company when England shall be 
reached. Every man that is ducked is paid in pro- 
portion to the number of times that he goes under." 

Several accepted this offer. At which a sailor cried 
out: 

" Duck me twelve times. Captain. I want to have 
a regular orgy wlien I get back home." 

And the sailors did it, laughing uproariously. 



160 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Sailing to the Cape Verde Islands, the Duke and the 
Duchess anchored in the harbor of St. Vincent, where 
one of the crew, who was a good linguist (Joseph 
Alexander) was sent in a boat to the Governor, at 
San Antonio, in order to negotiate for supplies. He 
seemed to prefer Cape Verde to privateering. 

" On October 6th," writes the gallant Rogers, " our 
boat went to San Antonio to get our linguist, accord- 
ing to appointment. No news of him." 

" On October 6th, our boat returned with nothing 
but limes and tobacco. No news of our linguist." 

'' On October 7th, no news of our linguist." 

" On the 8th, boat sent ashore, but no news of our 
linguist." 

" On the 9th, as the trade-winds are blowing fresh, 
concluded to leave our good Alexander to practice his 
linguistic and other accomplishments ashore. Adieu 
to our linguist." 

Thus disappeared the sleek and crafty Joseph. 

There was still trouble from insubordination, for 
Mr. Page — second mate of the Duchess — refused 
to accompany Mr. Cook (second in command on the 
Duke). Whereupon the hot-tempered Captain Cook 
— being the superior officer on board — struck him, 
and several blows were interchanged. 

At last Page was forced into the boat and brought 
to the Duke, where he was ordered to the forecastle in 
the bilboes (leg irons sliding upon a long, iron bar). 
But he jumped overboard — despising the chance of 
being gobbled up by a shark — and started to swim 
to his own ship. He was brought back, flogged, and 



WOODES ROGERS 161 

put in irons; and he evidently found a week of this 
kind of thing sufiicient; for he submitted himself 
humbly to future orders. 

Thus Woodes Rogers had already learned that the 
life of a privateer commander was not a happy one. 

Steering southwest, a large French ship was seen 
and chased, but she got away from the two consorts 
with surprising ease. On March 6th, when off the 
coast of Peru, a sail was sighted. 

" Let the Duchess bear down on her port and the 
Duke to starboard," cried Captain Rogers. " Heave 
a solid shot across her bow, and, if she refuses to 
capitulate, let her have your broadsides." 

Dipping, tossing, rolling; the two privateers 
swooped down upon their prey, like hawks. She 
flew the yellow flag of Spain — and — as the first 
ball of lead cut across her bow-sprit, it fluttered to the 
deck. Up went a white shirt, tied to a rat-line, and 
the crew from the Duke was soon in charge, and steer- 
ing her for Lobas : a harbor on the coast. 

" She's a tight little barque," said Rogers, when 
he had landed. " I'll make her into a privateer." 

So she was hauled up, cleaned, launched, and 
christened the Beginning; with a spare top-mast 
from the Duke as a mast, and an odd mizzen-topsail 
altered for a sail. Four swivel-guns were mounted 
upon her deck, and, as she pounded out of the bay, 
loud cheers greeted her from the decks of the Duchess, 
which was loafing outside, watching for a merchant- 
man to capture and pillage. 

Next morn two sails were sighted, and both Dtike 



162 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and Duchess hastened to make another haul. As they 
neared them, one was seen to be a stout cruiser from 
Lima ; the other a French-buih barque from Panama ; 
richly laden, it was thought. 

" Broadsides for both," ordered Woodes Rogers. 
" Broadsides and good treatment when the white flag 
flutters aloft." 

As the Duchess chased the Lima boat, the Dtike 
neared the Frenchman and spanked a shot at her from 
a bow-gun. The sea ran high and she did not wish to 
get too close and board, because it would be easier to 
send her men in pinnaces. 

" They're afraid ! " cried the Captain of the Duke. 
" We can take 'em with no exertion." But he was 
like many an Englishman : despised his foe only to 
find him a valiant one. 

Filing into four boats, the men from the Duke, fully 
armed, rowed swiftly towards the rolling Frenchman. 
They approached to within twenty yards. Then 

Crash! Crash! Rattle! Crash! 

A sheet of flame burst from her sides ; muskets and 
pistols spoke; cannon spat grape and cannister; the 
Englishmen were frightfully cut up. 

"On! On!" shouted )^oung John Rogers — a 
brother of Woodes — as he waved his cutlass aloft 
to enliven the sailors. But it was his last cry. A 
bullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell into the 
sea without a murmur. 

Crash! Crash! 

Again roared out a volley. Oars wTre splintered. 
One boat was pierced below the water line. She sank. 



WOODES ROGERS 163 

and her men floundered about upon the surface of the 
oily sea. 

" Bear off, and rescue our comrades ! " cried the 
leaders of this futile attack, and, as the French barque 
drifted away, the remaining boats busied themselves 
with the swimming sailors. The assault had been a 
complete failure. 

" Curses upon the Frenchman ! " cried Captain 
Rogers when he saw the saucy fighter drawing off. 
" We'll go after her to-morrow, and catch her, or my 
blood's not English. What say you, men?" 

" Yes. After her and board her amid-ships! " cried 
all. " Run our own vessel alongside." 

** And that I will do," answered Rogers, watching 
the lumbering merchantman through his glass. " She's 
entirely too well armed for a trader." 

When morning dawned, the Frenchman was still 
ploughing along the coast in the light breeze, with all 
sail set. But there was not wind enough to force her 
ahead of her pursuer. The Duchess now returned 
from her chase of the Lima boat, and, joining her 
Duke, bore in upon the able fighter from the open sea. 

" Egad ! We'll have her yet," shouted Captain 
Rogers, rubbing his hands. 

"She luffs!" cried a lieutenant. "She's coming 
to ! " 

Sure enough the Frenchman saw that resistance 
now was useless. She staggered into the wind, and a 
white flag beckoned for a prize-crew to come and take 
her. 

" And," writes Captain Rogers, " I found that a 



164 PAMOUS PKiVATEERSMEN 

Bishop who had been aboard of her, had been put 
ashore, which gave me much grief. For I always love 
to catch fat prelates, as they give up a stout sum as 
their ransom. In truth they are nice pickings." 

Things w'ere going well wnth the wild rovers from 
Bristol. Plunder there was a-plenty and the holds of 
the Duke and the Duchess bulged with treasure. Yet 
Woodes Rogers was not satisfied. 

"On! On to Guayaquil!" cried he. "We'll cap- 
ture this wealthy city; demand a great ransom; and 
sail to England, richer than the Spanish conquerors of 
the Incas." 

" Hurrah ! " shouted his staunch followers. " On ! 
On ! to Guayaquil ! " 

So — steering for the coast of Ecuador — the priva- 
teers drew near this rich Spanish-American town. A 
gulf lay before their eyes in which was a small island; 
with a little, white-housed village (called Puna) on its 
Eastern shore. 

"Take the place!" cried Rogers, as the two ships 
forged into the sleepy shallows, and rounded to before 
the peaceful habitation. 

With a cheer, the sailors piled into the boats, rowed 
ashore, and — with cutlass and dirk in hand — pressed 
through the narrow streets. Shots rang out from a few 
of the thatched houses ; two seamen fell to the ground 
with mortal wounds ; but, cheering wildly, the priva- 
teers rushed through the narrow highway; pressed 
into the court-house; and seized upon the Lieutenant- 
Governor of the town of Guayaquil, as he was attempt- 
ing to hide behind an old clothes-press. 



WOODES ROGERS 165 

" Let no man get away in order to warn the large 
town of our approach!" shouted Captam Rogers. 
" Catch ah who dash for the canoes upon the beach! " 

" Crush the bloomin' canoes ! " yelled Cook, as he 
saw some of the natives running towards them on the 
sandy shore. " Crush the canoes before the devils 
can get there! " 

" All right! " answered several of his men, as they 
ran for the clusters of boats. " We'll put holes in 
them ! " 

As they hurried forward, several of the natives were 
ahead. Two jumped into the bark boats and paddled 
furiously for Guayaquil. The dp, zip of bullets nipped 
the water around them, but, — with desperate sweeps 
• — they dug their blades into the sea and got safely 
off. As a result, the city was all ready and prepared 
for the invaders. 

"Ho! Ho!" laughed Rogers, as he thumbed the 
papers of the Lieutenant-Governor. " What is this ? " 

" A warning to the townsfolk of Guayaquil," said 
one of his men, as he peered over his shoulder. 

Rogers chuckled. 

" Beware, all you people " — he read — "of a 
squadron from the faraway isles of Great Britain 
which is coming shortly upon you. There will be full 
ten great ships, heavily manned and well armed for 
attack. The arch rogue, William Dampier, will be in 
control, — he who has plundered Puna before. Be 
on your guard, citizens! Be prepared! Arm your- 
selves ! " 

" Hah I Hah ! " laughed the free-booting captain. 



166 FAMOUS PKIVATEEKSMEN 

" They think I'm Dampier. That's good. But we'll 
have a tough time with them, for they know that we 
mean to assault their pretty little town." 

His followers looked solemn. 

" Let's attack, right away," cried several, " before 
the Spaniards have time to prepare for our charge!" 

Rogers, however, would not hear of it. 

" We must rest. Equip ourselves. Place cannon 
in the bows of our boats, and then we will be ready." 

His men murmured, but they knew that when 
Rogers had made up his mind upon a thing, there was 
no use in endeavoring to dissuade him. So they col- 
lected what plunder was to be had and awaited his 
further orders. 

Two days later all was ready for the advance. It 
was near midnight — upon April 22nd, — when the 
command was passed around : 

" Muffle your oars and take the town! " 

With one hundred and ten men in the jolly boats, the 
privateers neared the sleepy, little seaport. Not a 
sound broke the silence, save the drip, drip of the 
sweeps, yet, as they approached the white-washed walls 
of the lower town, — a bonfire was touched off upon 
the shore. 

" 'Tis well," whispered a stout sailor. " Now we 
can see to shoot ! " 

As he said this, many lights appeared in the houses 
of Guayaquil. The townspeople were wide awake. 

"What means this, sirrah?" thundered Rogers at 
a native guide, who was piloting him to the shore. 

The fellow had a ready answer. 



WOODES ROGERS 1G7 

" 'Tis the celebration of All Saints Day," he an- 
swered smiling. " The people here are good Chris- 
tians." 

" They know that we are coming," growled the 
English captain, for, as the native spoke, a Spaniard 
upon the shore was heard to shout : 

" Puna has been captured ! The enemy is advancing ! 
Arm! Arm! " 

Bells clanged from the steeples of the little churches. 
Muskets and guns went off. Black masses could be 
seen surging into the streets. Cannon roared, and a 
screeching shot spun ahead of the on-coming boats. 

" 'Tis nothing," said Rogers. " The alarm has only 
just been given. Preparations are not complete and 
we can rush them, easily." 

But Captain Cook had his own opinion upon the 
afifair. 

" The Buccaneers," said he, " never attack any large 
place after it is alarmed. My advice is to keep away." 
" Don't go in," cried several. " Wait and rush 
them when they are not so well prepared." 
Even the men seemed disinclined to advance. 
Thus cautious counsel prevailed : the boats dropped 
down-stream again — about three miles below the 
town — and were joined by two small barques. They 
were prizes which had been recently captured. Here 
the flotilla lay while the cries in the city grew inaudi- 
ble—for the inhabitants saw that the attack had 
been avoided. 

When flood-tide came, Captain Rogers once more 
ordered an advance upon the town. 



168 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

"No! No!" argued Dover. "They are too well 
prepared. Night will cloak our movements, so we 
should then go on.. I, myself, advise the sending of 
a trumpeter with a flag of truce. He shall propose 
that we make some trades with the people of this 
place." 

" Your measure is half-hearted," said Rogers, with 
heat. " You are a craven knave. Let's rush the town 
like Englishmen and heroes! " 

Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners — 
a Lieutenant from Puna, and the Captain of the 
Frenchman of recent capture — were sent to parley 
with the Spaniards. 

"The English are afraid!" whispered the inhabit- 
ants. " Let us keep them off with braggadocio, and 
mayhap reinforcements will come to us." 

So they bickered and delayed. 

" These dogs would palaver forever," said Captain 
Rogers, when negotiations had proceeded for full two 
days without result. " I, for one, am for attacking 
the city right now ! " 

" Yes ! On ! On ! " cried his men. 

Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance; 
so, landing upon the beach, the one hundred and 
ten ran towards the town with a wild, exultant 
whoop ! 

Zip! Zip! came the bullets from the nearer houses, 
as the privateers advanced. 

Boom! Boom! sounded the guns from the Duchess 
and the Duke, which had edged up near the wharves 
and anchored. Shells shrieked and burst; guns 



WOODES ROGERS 109 

roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the Enghsh beat 
down two lines of Spaniards who opposed them. 

Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil 
to the market-place in the centre of the town, where 
four cannon were drawn up behind a barricade which 
was flanked by cavalry. 

Crash! Crash! they roared at the on-coming pri- 
vateers, and many a man went down before the 
exploding grape and cannister. But the blood of the 
English was now up. 

" Take the guns ! " shouted Woodes Rogers. 
" Scale the barricade and spike the pieces ! " 

With a mighty roar the jack-tars ran for the en- 
gines of death ; leaping over the wall of the defenses ; 
bayonetting the gunners ; turning the spitting war- 
engines upon the cavalry, which, in confusion and dis- 
may, was driven down a crooked lane. It was the last 
stand. The English standard soon waved from the 
flag-pole of the House of Justice. 

" And now," cried Captain Rogers, gleefully, " I'll 
meet the worthy Padres and treat with them for a 
ransom. We'll make them pay full well to get back 
the neat little town of Guayaquil." 

Crestfallen and abashed, the city fathers were soon 
brought before the privateer. 

" Senor," said they, " your men can fight like devils. 
Senor, you are the first man to have taken our town, 
and many a Buccaneer has endeavored to do so ! " 

Captain Rogers smiled. 

" Tut ! Tut ! " said he. " The English can always 
battle. But — Fathers — you must pay me well for 



170 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

this affair. I demand thirty thousand pieces of eight 
($35,000 or about £6,750) as ransom for your fair 
city. I will give you two days in which to collect it." 

The worthy Padres hung their heads. 

" You English," said they, " are cruel extortioners." 

Yet — in two day's time — the British marched to 
their boats with colors flying, bugles blowing, and 
drums beating a rollicking tattoo. Captain Rogers 
brought up the rear with a few men. He had secured 
the ransom and fairly smiled with exuberant joy. 
" Our sailors," says he, " kept continually dropping 
their pistols, cutlasses, and pole-axes; which shows 
they had grown careless and very weak — weary of 
being soldiers — and it was high time that we should 
be gone from hence to the shores of Merrie England." 

Thus, on April 28th, when the Duke and the Duchess 
weighed anchor and stood out to sea : guns roared : 
trumpets blew : the men cheered. 

" And so," writes the gallant Rogers, " we took leave 
of the Spaniards very cheerfully, but not half so well 
pleased as we should have been if we had taken 'em by 
surprise; for I was well assured from all hands, that 
at least we should then have got about two hundred 
thousand pieces of eight in money (£45,000 or 
$225,000) ; and in jewels, diamonds, and wrought 
and unwrought gold and silver." 

The owners of the two privateers : the Duke and the 
Duchess, sat in solemn meeting at the good town of 
Bristol. It was the month of October, 171 1. 



WOODES ROGERS 171 

The fat Quakers were smiling, for Captain Rogers 
had brought them back equally fat moneys. 

The rugged merchants laughed, for the venture had 
been a howling success. 

"And you were wounded?" said a stockholder, 
turning to the bronzed sea-rover who stood before 
them, giving account and reckoning of his jour- 
ney to the Spanish Main. 

" A scratch," replied the stout sea-dog, smiling. 
" When we tackled a Manila ship on the way home 
from Guayaquil, I got a ball through the jaw, and a 
splinter in the left foot. It laid me up for full three 
weeks, but, gentlemen, a cat and Woodes Rogers both 
have nine lives." 

And even the sober Quaker fathers laughed at this 
sally. 

" You have done well," they said. " We will reward 
you with money and a good berth. How would you 
care to be Governor of the Bahamas?" 

" Fine! " said Woodes Rogers, chuckling. 

And that is the way the old sea-barnacle spent his 
declining years, dying at the tropic isle on July i6th, 
1732. Hail to this Prince of Privateers! 



TWILIGHT AT SEA 

The twilight hours like birds flew by, 

As lightly and as free ; 

Ten thousand stars were in the sky, 

Ten thousand on the sea ; 

For every wave with dimpled face, 

That leaped up in the air, 

Had caught a star in its embrace, 

And held it trembling there. 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 

THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF 

THE MEDITERRiViNEAN SEA 

(1715- 1765) 



"It was a high counsel which T once heard given to a young 
person: 'Always do what you are afraid to do.'" — Emerson. 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 

THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF 

THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA 

(1715-1765) 

"'Be sure you're right, then go ahead!' was coined by An- 
drew Jackson, 
Who was a fighter, tough as nails, and loved to lay the whacks 

on. 
He followed out this sage advice, in spite of opposition, 
While everybody winked and said, — ' A Fcllozv zvith a Mis- 
sion! ' 
In other days, in other climes, there lived a seaman daring. 
Who loved a fight, as well as he, — was just as good at swearing; 
His name was Wright, and thus in spite of all his foemen said. 
Old Fortune Wright, was surely right, whene'er he went ahead ! " 
— Chants of the Eastern Clipper Ships. — 1846. 

IN the year 1744 war was declared between Eng- 
land and France. French privateers harried the 
coast of her rival, caught her merchantmen when- 
ever they ventured away from stout men-o-warsmen, 
and chased them in the blue, shimmering waters of 
the Mediterranean. It seemed as if there were never 
gun-boats enough to protect the British shipping, and 
thus many of the English merchants grew choleric and 
angry. 

Englishmen carried on quite a trade with Italy, 
Greece, and the countries of Asia Minor, and at Leg- 

175 



176 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

horn — upon the Itahan coast — they had numerous 
trading shops and docks for their own vessels. They 
began to suffer, not only great annoyance, but also 
great loss, from the depredations of the French pri- 
vateers which swarmed about the harbor mouth and 
scurried into every corner of the ragged coast-line. 
Their trade was hampered, their ships compelled to 
remain in port, or — if they ventured out — they 
were inevitably captured. The situation was unbear- 
able. 

" My ! My ! " said one of the red-faced merchants. 
" My ! My ! We must have a remedy for this. My ! 
My! We must have our own privateers!" 

" Well spoken," cried another. " And I know the 
very man to help us out. He is living here, now, and 
his name is Fortunatus Wright. Gentlemen! I tell 
you he is a true sea-dog! He is the fellow to cripple 
these saucy, French bush-whackers of the sea." 

"Hear! Hear!" cried others. 

And thus Mr. Fortunatus Wright was sought for, 
and was asked : 

" Will you take charge of a privateer for the British 
merchants of Leghorn? Will you chase these rascally 
Frenchmen? Will you cripple their operations? Will 
you chastise these sea-robbers?" 

To this Mr. Fortunatus Wright, being a true sea- 
man with the love of the salt water tugging at his 
heart strings, is said to have remarked, 

"Whoop-ee!" 

Which being interpreted means: 

" Gentlemen, Fm dee-lighted ! " 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 177 

As luck would have it, there was a vessel lying in 
the harbor which was directly available. She was a 
brigantine called the Fame, and, although we know 
little about her tonnage and the number of stout sea- 
dogs whom she could carry, it is apparent that Fortu- 
natus Wright considered her most admirably suited 
for his venture. At any rate he soon boarded her, 
swore in a crew of stalwart seamen, and saw that 
plenty of gunpowder, cutlasses, boarding-pikes and 
muskets were aboard. 

It was September, 1746, and, before the close of 
the month of December, the Fame had captured eight- 
een prizes, one of which was a hulking, French pri- 
vateer with twenty guns and one hundred and fifty 
men, especially fitted out to put an end to the career 
of the vessel of Fortunatus Wright. They had met 
off the port of Messina and had had a roaring, little 
scrimmage, but — seeing that matters were going ill 
with him — the French captain had cried : 

" Run for the shore ! Run our ship aground ! We 
will fix her so that this English hound cannot make 
a prize of us ! " 

" Voila ! Voila ! " his men had shouted. " Oui ! 
We will f-e-e-x th-e-es Eengleesh chien ! Oui ! Au 
revoir. Monsieur Wright! " 

So saying, the privateer had been run upon the 
sandy beach, bows on, where her crew took to the 
brush, yelling derisively at the Fame as she came up 
within hail, — sails snug down so as to move cau- 
tiously. 

The Frenchmen had counted without their host. 



178 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

*' We'll float her, my hearties ! " cried Wright. 
" All hands ashore in the small boats. Tie hawsers 
to her stern and pull her off ! " 

This they did, while the French captain, far back 
in the brush, saw it and fairly boiled with disappoint- 
ment and rage. 

" Zees Wright," he blustered. " One cannot out- 
weet heem." 

So the privateer was towed into the harbor of Leg- 
horn, where all the English merchants cried : 

"Good! Good! Now we have a true man to fight 
our battles ! Huzza for Fortunatus Wright ! " 

The French were furious, while at the island of 
Malta (where were numerous French, Spanish, Aus- 
trian and English traders) the feeling grew intense. 
Here the Austrians sided with the English and several 
duels were fought by angry officers, as crafty Fortu- 
natus Wright continued to send in his prizes. 

Finally the French merchants forwarded a missive 
to Marseilles, in France, which ran : 

" Can the French be further humiliated by this cor- 
sair — this robber — Fortunatus Wright? Let our 
people fit out a privateer sufficiently large to cope with 
him, and let her defeat and cripple this fellow. Make 
haste, for he is doing much damage ! " 

An answer came back. 

" Before a month is gone, Monsieur Wright will no 
more harass your privateers. What we have deter- 
mined to do, we shall do! " 

Word of this was brought to Captain Fortunatus 
Wright and he only smiled broadly. " There'll l>e 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 179 

another ship to bring into MaUa, care of F. Wright, 
Esq.," said he. " And it wih be labelled Collect on 
Delivery." 

Not three weeks later the French vessel came 
jauntily into the harbor of Malta. The captain was a 
man of considerable repute as a seaman and fighter, 
and he was warmly received by the French. They 
invited him to many dinners. 

" Voila! " said they. " Here is the fellow to do the 
tr-e-e-k. Tenez ! There will soon be one b-e-eg mince 
pie we-eth Captain Wright eenside. Ha! Fla!" 

It is never well to count your chickens before they 
hatch or to pat a man upon the back before he has 
won a victory. 

Eagerly the French captain cruised outside, contin- 
ually upon the watch for slippery Skipper Wright. 
His vessel was superior to the Fame in numbers of 
both guns and men. Fie was sure of victory. " If 
only the hated Englishman would appear ! " he grum- 
bled. 

Meanwhile the excitement and expectation at Malta 
became intense. Finally it was noised abroad that the 
terrible privateer had been sighted about five miles oflf 
the harbor. All factions were aroused : the Austrians 
and English slapping the French and Spaniards upon 
the back, and saying, " Now there will be a chance 
to sink bold Captain Wright, Messieurs ! " 

To which the irritable Frenchmen would answer, 
" Ah ! Yes ! He \\\\\ be gobbled up like Jonah by the 
whale. Pouff!" 

The French privateer sailed out to meet the foe, 



180 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and soon her white canvas had disappeared from view 
around a jutting headland. The stranger ran off. 
The Frenchman pursued, and soon both were lost to 
the eager gaze of the population of Malta, which 
crowded every headland, eager and expectant for the 
bloody battle. The shore was black with people. 

Hours passed. Another day came and with it the 
news that two vessels had been sighted off the entrance 
to the harbor. Hundreds rushed to the headlands and 
cliffs in order to see the victor and tlie vanquished, 
for two cruisers were approaching, the one towing 
the other. 

" Huzzah ! " shouted an enthusiastic Frenchman. 
" We have won ! See — up go the French colors upon 
the first vessel. The other — poof — eet ees a jelly. 
Eet ees pounded to ze shreds." 

" Huzzah ! " shouted all of his compatriots, and 
they danced about, shaking hands, embracing, and 
waving their hats and their handkerchiefs. 

" Ce cher Wright! " cried they. " He ees een the 
soup, eh ? " 

And what of the Englishmen? 

They — of course — said nothing, but bit their 
lips, looked at their Austrian friends, and hung their 
heads dejectedly. 

Here is the most beautiful part of all this story, 
for Fortunatus Wright, my boys, was a joker — a 
real, true end man in a minstrel show — and he was 
having his fun with " the Frenchies." His vessel — 
indeed — had come off victorious, in spite of the fact 
that she had been much more shattered than the other 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 181 

contestant. Therefore, Wright had put her in tow 
of the captured Frenchman, which he, himself, was 
steering, with the crew of his opponent down in the 
hold, as prisoners of war. 

Seeing the crowded headlands and swarming ram- 
parts in the harbor, he could not resist the temptation 
of hoisting the flag of France. He chuckled as he saw 
the effect it produced upon the crowd, then — as the 
vessels rounded a fort at the entrance to the harbor — 
down came the colors of France and up went the Eng- 
lish flag to the peak, with the French flag below. 

And then — well, you can imagine how the Eng- 
lishmen and Austrians yelled, and how the poor 
Frenchmen beat a hasty flight for their homes. For- 
tunatus Wright had had a sweet revenge. He laughed 
long and hard, while the Frenchmen said, " Curse 
heem ! He ees a devil ! A thousand curses upon the 
head of thees Wright ! Sapristi ! " And they did not 
open any more bottles of wine for their supposedly 
great captain from Marseilles. 

As for Fortunatus Wright, he continued to harass 
the French and get into trouble, as the following anec- 
dote well shows. 

Not long after his famous battle, he was travelling 
in Italy with introductions to many of the nobility, 
and arrived — one day — before the city gates of 
Lucca. Here was stationed a guard, and a sentinel 
scrutinized him with great care and deliberation. 

Fortunatus Wright grew impatient. 

" Can I not go by? " said he. " My passports are 
correct!" 



182 FAMOUS PKIVATEERSMEN 

" No ! No ! " answered the soldier. " I no likea 
zose peestols in your belta. You must deeliver them 
to me before you can go to ze ceety." 

The Enghsh sea-captain said nothing, but the color 
rose in his cheeks. In an instant he raised one of his 
pistols and pointed it at the head of the astonished 
sentry. 

" The first man that endeavors to take my weapons 
from me," he yelled, " does so at the cost of his life! " 

The guardsman was flabbergasted. 

" Corporal of the Guard! Post Number Two! " he 
shouted, presenting his musket at the same instant, 
and pointing it at the head of the irascible Captain 
Wright. 

Immediately a dozen soldiers came running to the 
spot. They surrounded the irate English traveller. 
He was ordered to " Throw up your hands ! " 

" You air one mad Englishmana ! " said the Officer 
of the Guard. " Here. Comea weeth usa ! We weel 
feexa youa! " 

Seeing that the odds were too much against him. 
Captain Wright allowed himself to be taken to the 
guard house, while a soldier was dispatched to the 
British Ambassador in order to explain that " they 
had captured an Englishman as mad as a mad dog! " 

Things looked bad for the great privateersman. 
But was his name not Fortunatus? And was not 
good fortune always with him? 

A nobleman to whom the bold mariner had a letter 
now intervened in his favor, and secured the release 
of the high-tempered man-of-the-sea. On the morn- 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 183 

ing of the fourth day of his captivity, and at the early 
hour of four, a soldier waked Captain Fortunatus 
Wright, who was peacefully sleeping at a military 
prison. A missive was handed him, and he read : 

" Seigneur Wright : — Since you have been so 
daring as to attempt to enter the town of Lucca by 
force, it is therefore ordered that you shall now leave 
the State and never presume to enter it again, without 
leave from the Republic. Post-horses, with a guard to 
see you over the border, are now ready for you. We 
trust that you shall have a safe journey. 
" By order of the 

" Governor of Lucca." 

" These Italians are the most unreasonable people 
alive," growled Captain Wright. But he pocketed 
both his pride and his pistols, entered the post-chaise 
at the door, and was soon rolling- forth for other parts. 
In spite of this order — he continued to reside in 
Italy, with the true independence of a privateersman. 

In December, 1746, the bold seafarer made an ex- 
ceptionally good capture: a French vessel on a voy- 
age from Marseilles to Naples, with a rich cargo and 
the servants and luggage of a real potentate, — the 
Prince of Campo Florida. 

When valorous Wright stepped aboard of her, her 
captain was scraping and bowing near the rail. 

" Ah, Seigneur ! " said he, " you have taken me, 
that is true. But you cannot touch my cargo or my 
men. See, — here is a pass from King George the 



184 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Second of England. It says, ' All of the cargo, pas- 
sengers, and crew of La Belle Florence shall be ex- 
empt from molestation by English cruisers and priva- 
teers. What say you to that? " 

Captain Wright looked sad, but he seized the paper 
and read it with care. His smile broadened as he 
perused the document. 

" How am I to know that this particular ship is to 
go free? " said he. " For although you told me that 
the name of your vessel {La Belle Florence) was men- 
tioned in this document, I do not find that it is men- 
tioned. The paper merely states that ' the vessel ' 
shall not be molested, and, my boy, you may have 
stolen this from some other skipper. Ah ! Ha ! You 
are my prize and shall go with me into Leghorn." 

You should have seen the face of the French- 
man ! 

" I vill haf revenge! " said he. And he had it. 

For, when the matter was referred to the British 
Minister, he turned it over to the Admiral who com- 
manded the English ships at this station, and this 
high official made Captain Wright give up both vessel 
and cargo. He did so with the same unwillingness 
that he had shown when asked to leave the quaint, 
little town of Lucca. Captain Wright, you see, had 
that bull-dog stubbornness which is characteristic of 
men of the British Isles. He believed in hanging on 
to everything which he took. 

A bit later, this trait got him into serious difficulties 
and into prison. 

A number of English merchants were trading with 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 185 

the people of Turkey under the name of " The Com- 
pany of EngHsh Merchants trading to the Levant 
Sea," and, finding it impossible to ship all of their 
goods in British vessels, they often sent them in the 
holds of French ships. True it was that France was 
at war with England at this time, but, as these were 
English cargoes, the British naturally thought that 
they should be allowed to come through, unmolested, 
even though the French vessels might be captured by 
English privateers. But they had not reckoned with 
Fortunatus Wright. 

Two French clipper ships were scudding quietly 
along off the Italian coast, one bright day in June of 
1747, when a rakish vessel appeared upon the horizon 
and speedily bore down upon them. They crowded 
on sail, but they could not outdistance their pursuer, 
who was soon near enough to fire a gun across the 
bow of the foremost, and flaunt the English colors 
in her face. 

" Helas ! " growled the French skipper. " Eet ees 
that devil, ze Captain Wright. Eet is all up with 
me ! Helas ! " 

So he came to and surrendered ; but the other fellow 
pounded away at the British privateer with a couple 
of swivel guns and put up a smart, little skirmish 
before a well-directed shot from the deck of the Eng- 
lishman, knocked a topmast crashing over the port 
side. Crippled, she surrendered. 

It did not take Captain Wright long to sail into 
Leghorn harbor with his prizes. The holds were 
filled with bales of rich goods, marked : " The prop- 



186 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

erty of the Company of English Merchants trading 
to the Levant Sea." 

" I'll sell the bloomin' cargoes," cried Wright. 
" For the vessels were under the French flag and 
we're at war with that nation. Besides this, one of 
them put up a fight against me." 

Thus — the cargoes were sold — Captain Fortuna- 
tus pocketed the money, and went upon his way, re- 
joicing. 

But he did not rejoice very long, for the British 
merchants were furious with anger, and i)rocured — 
through some means or other — an order from the 
English Government to the effect that English cargoes 
in French vessels were not to be touched — when cap- 
tured by British privateers. Word was sent to Cap- 
tain Wright to refund the money which he had secured 
by the sale of the cargoes captured in the French ships, 
and the property of " The Company of English Mer- 
chants trading to the Levant Sea." 

To this Captain Wright answered, " Bah ! I have 
the money. I intend to keep it! " 

Orders were sent from England to have this fellow 
arrested and shipped home; so the Italian police 
obligingly captured the old sea-dog. locked him up, 
and kept him in jail for six months, while the attor- 
neys fought over the legality of the affair. 

At length the bluff privateersman was allowed to 
go free, and — he never paid back the money. " These 
fellows attacked me at law." he wrote. " but I have 
not acted contrary to it. I am an Englishman. I am 
actino- under a commission from the King of England, 



FORTUNATUS WRKjIHT 187 

and, when we are at war with France, I intend to 
hold and keep all the cargoes which I capture in 
French vessels. As for this ' English Company tra- 
ding to the Levant Sea ! ' let them learn a lesson and 
pack their goods in future in English vessels. English 
oak should be good enough for English cargoes." 

The " English Company trading to the Levant Sea " 
had certainly learned that Fortunatus Wright was as 
stubborn as a mule, and — in the future — they em- 
ployed no French vessels to carry their bales of com- 
merce. A wise dog only allozvs himself to be bttteii 
once. 

France and England now came to a peaceable set- 
tlement of their difficulties, but in 1755 war broke out 
afresh. Fortunatus Wright chuckled, for he itched 
for another brush upon the wide sweep of the ocean, 
and a chance to take a prize or two. So the Fame 
not being available, he had a small vessel constructed 
at Leghorn, and called her the Saint George. She was 
a fast sailer and was as graceful as a sea-gull. " In 
this fair ship," said he. as he gazed upon her admir- 
ingly, " I shall take many a prize and shall have, J 
trust, many a sharp adventure. Saint George, I salute 
you ! May you bring me only the best of luck ! " 

Trouble was in store for the well-hated mariner 
even before he turned his vessel's prow into the Medi- 
terranean, for — in spite of the fact that the Italians 
were neutral — their sympathies were strongly with 
France, and they looked with decided disfavor upon 
the graceful hull of the Saint George, as she bobbed 
serenely upon the surface of the bay. Knowing full 



188 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

well the reputation of this famous seaman, they paid 
particular attention to his little craft, and sent a num- 
ber of officials to inspect her. In a few days the in- 
trepid Fortunatus received the information that, as his 
was a merchant vessel, he must carry a crew of only 
five-and-twenty men, and an armament of four small 
guns. 

At this the old sea-dog only laughed, and exhibited 
the greatest anxiety to comply with the requirements 
of the law. 

" I would suggest," said he to one of the officials 
of the town. '* That you keep guard-boats rowing 
around my ship in order to be sure that I do not take 
on more guns and men than the law permits, before 
I set sail." 

The officer smiled. " We are watching you 
closely," said he. " For Monsieur Wright, it is said 
that you are as crafty as a cat ! " 

The mariner grinned, and, before going to sea, 
obtained from the Governor, a certificate to the effect 
that he had complied with all the requirements of the 
law. 

Armed with this, on July 28th. 1756, he put to sea, 
in company with four merchant vessels laden with 
valuable cargoes, and bound for the shores of Eng- 
land. Carefully the Saint George had been watched, 
so carefully, in fact, that the authorities had over- 
looked the lading of the other vessels, aboard which 
numerous guns, howitzers, and hand-spikes had been 
smuggled, besides a number of seamen who were 
well-experienced in fighting upon the ocean. It is 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 189 

true that Fortunatus Wright was as crafty as a cat, 
or — as they say in Maine — " You'd have to git up 
early if yer wanted ter hck him." 

Not only had the officials at Leghorn watched every 
move of this well-known privateersman, but they had 
sent word to the French that Wright had only a feeble 
force, that he was accompanying several rich prizes, 
and that he could be easily beaten and captured by a 
vessel of any size. So much hated was he, that it is 
said the French king had promised Knighthood and 
a handsome life pension to the sailor who could bring 
Wright to the shores of France dead or alive. The 
merchants of Marseilles were particularly bitter against 
him, for he had captured many of their ships, and in 
the market-place (where all could see it) had been 
posted a placard, which ran : 

"ALL SAILORS AND SEAMEN ATTENTION! 

To the person, or persons, who will capture and bring to 
France, the body of the arch-villain Captain Fortunatus Wright, 
shall be given 

A SUM DOUBLE THE VALUE OF WRIGHT's VESSEL. 

Frenchmen! Catch this Thief! Bring him in Dead or Alive! 
Do your Duty! 

This sum is guaranteed by the Merchants and Ship-owners of 
Marseilles, and the Chamber of Commerce." 

Wright had heard of this, and it sent a grim look 
into his eyes. He also heard that a vessel was cruis- 
ing outside the harbor in wait for him, and thus he 
was not surprised, as he saw a large boat upon his 



190 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

port bow, when only a few hours' sail from the snug 
harbor of Leghorn. 

This vessel — a zebeque — had been waiting for the 
well-hated privateersman for several days, as her cap- 
tain had been warned by the Italians that Wright was 
about to set sail. She had three masts, each carrying 
a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of consider- 
able size, and several swivels. Her crew numbered 
two hundred and eighty men, well armed and eager 
for a brush with the famous Fortunatus. whose pro- 
verbial good fortune seemed now to have deserted 
him. 

Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen 
to draw near and hurriedly transported some of the 
cannon, which he had smuggled, to his own vessel. 
He also added to his small crew, so that — when the 
zebeque came pounding down within shooting dis- 
tance — he had increased his sailors from twenty- 
five to seventy-five, and his guns, from four to 
tweh'e. 

" Now let the Frenchie come on! " he cried. " Fm 
half prepared, but Fll give her a warmer welcome than 
she ever had in all her career! " 

*' Huzzah ! Huzzah ! " shouted his men, who were 
a motley collection of all nationalities: Italians, Eng- 
lish, Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and a few Arabs. 
"Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever ! '* The Arabs, 
of course, didn't say this, but they tried to. 

The French were very confident, and, as they came 
within range of the guns of the little Saint George 
thev began to sing a hvmn of victory, while their 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 191 

captain already saw, in his hands, the rich reward 
offered by the good citizens of Marseilles. 

" Poof! " he chuckled. " Monsieur Wright, he soon 
take dinnaire in my cabin. Poof!" 

But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than 
he imagined, and his men - — although of all nationali- 
ties — were so animated by his stirring and martial 
spirit, that they fought better than they had ever 
fought in their lives before. You all know how nec- 
essary to success " Spirit " is in a foot-ball team, or 
a base-ball nine. The team which has the do-or-dare 
spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fired de- 
termination, is usually the team that wins. And the 
spirit of the captain is the controlling factor in 
any contest. If he be no desperate fighter, his 
followers will not be desperate fighters. If he is 
weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak- 
kneed. 

So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright, 
cheered onward by the dauntless navigator, fought as 
they had never fought before. Arab and German 
strove as well as Englishman and Italian to battle 
strenuously beneath the eye of the famous privateers- 
man. They had never been together before, but, ani- 
mated by the presence of this fearless " cock-of-the- 
Mediterranean," they now sailed into the Frenchman 
as if the zebeque were a vessel of equal strength and 
armament. Cheer after cheer welled into the air as 
the two antagonists drew near each other, while the 
puff of white smoke from the sides of the French 
vessel was followed by the chug! chug! of solid shot, 



192 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

as it cut up the waves near the body of the staunch, 
httle Saint George. 

"It's three to one against us, Boys!" shouted the 
battle-scarred Captain Wright. " Fire for the enemy's 
rigging and bring down one of her masts, if you can. 
If you fight hard we can hck her! " 

The screech of a shell cut his words short, for a 
piece of iron passed dangerously near his lips, striking 
a stout Italian in the neck, and rendering him useless 
for further conflict. 

Around and around in a wide circle floated the two 
sea-warriors, for the wind was light and just drove 
them along at the rate of a snail's pace. The rag-tag- 
and-bob-tail crew on the Saint George stood to their 
guns like veterans and poured in such a hot fire that 
the French captain speedily realized that his only 
chance for victory was to board and overwhelm the 
English by superior numbers. 

" Bring the vessel up on her starboard side ! " he 
commanded. " And get out the boarding-pikes ! 
Now we'll finish Captain Wright ! " 

The zebeque soon ranged alongside the battered 
Saint George, threw her grappling hooks into the rig- 
ging, and her men were in a hand-to-hand struggle 
with the motley crew who battled for the veteran 
Fortunatus. Slash! Slash! Crack! The cutlasses 
cut and parried, the pistols spat, and the boarding- 
pikes thrust and struck. Cheering wildly the French- 
men attempted to climb upon the deck of the privateer, 
but the followers of old Wright fought like demons. 
They parried and thrust like fiends ; and such was the 




THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER. 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 193 

ferocity of their struggle that the boarders were re- 
pulsed with great slaughter. 

" Thees Wright ees a very hornet for a fight ! " 
sighed the French captain, as he ordered the grappling 
hooks cast off, and floated his vessel away. 

Poom! Pooni! 

There was still some fight left in the little Saint 
George and her dauntless crew kept pounding iron at 
the sullen zebeque, which, shattered and torn, filled 
away and made for the open sea. Her captain had 
been struck by a piece of shell just as the battle closed ; 
two lieutenants were killed, seventy men were 
wounded, and eighty-eight had been killed by the ac- 
curate shooting of the " Never-Say-Dies " under Cap- 
tain Fortunatus Wright : the invincible. It had been 
a gallant battle, gallantly fought by both sides, and 
gallantly won. 

Bold navigator Wright followed his crippled ad- 
versary for several miles, then — seeing another 
French gun-boat threatening his convoy — he re- 
turned to the merchant-ships which had accompanied 
him; sent them back into Leghorn harbor; and fol- 
lowed, next day, with the proud, but battered Saint 
George. It had been a glorious victory. 

No sooner had the war-scarred Captain Wright 
let go his anchor chains in the harbor of Leghorn 
than he realized that he had only just begun to 
fight. 

" Sapristi ! " said an Italian official. " This pirate 
has deceived us! This fellow was allowed but four 
guns upon his ship and he had twelve. To the jail 



194 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

with this clog! To the prison with this cut-throat! 
Sapristi ! " 

A boat soon rowed to the Saint George and an order 
was dehvered to Captain Wright to the effect that he 
must bring his vessel into the inner harbor, and, if 
he did not obey, she would be brought in by Italian 
gun-boats. Wright — of course — refused. So two 
big Italian warships sailed up upon either side of 
the Saint George, ran out their guns, and cast an- 
chor. 

" I will not move for the entire Italian Govern- 
ment ! " roared Captain Fortunatus. " I will appeal 
to the British consul for protection, as England is at 
war with France, not with Italy." 

Now was a pretty how-de-do. The Italians were 
furious with the stubborn privateersman for refus- 
ing to obey their orders, l^ut, in trutli, the way that 
he had deceived them in smuggling the extra cannon 
aboard — when under tlicir own eyes — is what had 
roused their quick, Tuscan tempers. They thought 
that they had been sharp — well — here was a man 
who was even sharper than they, themselves. " Sap- 
risti ! " they cried. " To the jail weeth heem ! " 

There was a terrific war of words between the 
British consul and the officials of that snug, little 
town. Then, the problem was suddenly solved, for, 
two powerful, English men-of-war dropped into the 
harbor : the Jersey of sixty guns, and the his mount- 
ing fifty. The authorities of Leghorn were told that 
they had orders from the Admiral of the British, Med- 
iterranean fleet, to convoy any English merchantmen 



FORTUNATUS WRIGHT 195 

which might be there, and to release the Saint George 
immediately. Wright threw up his cap and cheered, 
but the officials of Leghorn said things which cannot 
be printed. Thus the Saint George sailed upon her 
way, unmolested, and was soon taking more prizes 
upon the broad waters of the Mediterranean. 

The path of the privateer is not strewn with roses. 
Captain Fortunatus found that his reputation had gone 
abroad and it had not been to his credit, for, when he 
put in at Malta he was not allowed to buy provisions 
for his ship. 

" You are a beastly pirate ! " said an official. " You 
cannot purchase anything here for your nefarious 
business." 

" I am a privateer ! " answered Wright, with anger. 

" A privateer looks just the same to me as a pirate," 
sarcastically sneered the official. And Captain For- 
tunatus had to look elsewhere for provisions. 

As he cruised along, a big, French cruiser of 
thirty-eight guns chased the little Saint George as if 
to gobble her up alive. 

" Boys ! We shall now have some fun ! " said Cap- 
tain Wright. " I can sail faster than this Frenchy. 
Just watch me ! " 

So, when the great beast of a French vessel came 
lumbering by, Wright played with her like a cat with 
a mouse ; sailed around her in circles ; shot guns at her 
rigging — just to aggravate the men from the sunny 
land — and then dipped his ensign and went careening 
away as if nothing had happened. No wonder that 
the French hated and despised this valiant mariner! 



196 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Wouldn't you have done so if you had been a French- 
man? 

Thus Captain Fortunatus Wright continued upon 
his privateering, his fighting, and his cruising ; bearing 
terror to his enemies but satisfaction to his friends. 
His name was as well known among those who sailed 
the Mediterranean as was that of the great Napoleon 
in later years, and it was just as cordially hated by 
those who opposed him. " The Ogre from Leghorn " 
was one of his titles, while some applied to him the 
choice epithet of " The Red Demon from Italy." At 
any rate this did not seem to worry the veteran sea- 
dog, who continued to take prizes and make money 
until the year 1757. Then he disappears from his- 
tory, for the body of brave, resolute, stubborn, and 
valiant Captain Fortunatus Wright mysteriously and 
suddenly vanished from this earth. 

What was his end? 

Perhaps he perished while boarding the deck of 
some craft which was manned by men as gallant as 
his own. Perhaps he fell while stemming the advance 
of a crew of wild Frenchmen, eager for his blood and 
remembering the many victories which he had won 
over their countrymen. Perhaps, in the wild, wind- 
tossed wastes of the Mediterranean, his vessel — un- 
able to cope with the elements — was hurled upon 
some jagged rock and sunk in the sobbing waters of 
the frothing sea. Perhaps he was captured, hurried 
to some dark prison, and died in one of those many 
dungeons which disgrace the cities of the Italian coast. 
Perhaps he was hanged for privateering. 



PORTUNATUS WRIGHT 197 

At any rate, nothing is known of the last clays of 
this dauntless navigator save what can be gathered 
from an old grave in St. Peter's churchyard, in 
Liverpool, 

Here is the tombstone of the father of Fortunatus 
Wright, an inscription upon which, tells us that he 
was a master-mariner of Liverpool ; that he defended 
his ship — on one occasion — most gallantly against 
two vessels of superior force; and that he died, not 
by the stroke of a boarding-pike, but safely in his own 
home. To this is added the information that: 

" Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victori- 
ous, and humane to the vanquished. He was a con- 
stant terror to the enemies of his king and his coun- 
try." That is all. 



THE DEEP 

There's beauty in the deep : 
The wave is bhier than the sky ; 
And though the hghts shine bright on high, 
More softly do the sea-gems glow 
That sparkle in the depths below; 
The rainbow tints are only made 
When on the waters they are laid. 
And sea and moon most sweetly shine 
Upon the ocean's level brine. 
There's beauty in the deep. 

There's quiet in the deep. 
Above, let tide and tempest rave, 
And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave; 
Above, let care and fear contend 
With sin and sorrow to the end : 
Here, far beneath the tainted foam 
That frets above our peaceful home, 
We dream in joy, and walk in love, 
Nor know the rage that yells above. 
There's quiet in the deep. 



GEORGE WALKER 

WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT 

OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL 

(1727 -1777) 



" ' War is Hell,' said General William T. Sherman. But, — 
better have war than bow to an inferior nation." — Doctrines of 
the Strenuous Life. 



GEORGE WALKER 

WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF 

THE ENGLISH CHANNEL 

(1727 -1777) 

"If Britain can but breed th' men, 
Who are like Walker made, 
She'll have no fear of danger, 
When th' foe starts to invade. 
When th' foe starts to invade, my boys, 
An' creep along th' shore, 
Where th' curling breakers wash th' cliffs. 
Where th' breeching combers roar. 
Then, lift a glass to Walker, 
Of Glorioso fame, 
May wc ne'er forget his deed lads, 
May zvc ne'er forget his name." 

— Chants from The Channel. — 1769. 

IT was the year 1739, and the good people of 
Charleston, South Carolina, were in a great state 
of agitation. Little knots of merchants, sailors, 
clerks, and dock-hands clustered about each other in 
the narrow streets. And. above the hub-btib of many 
voices, could be heard the solemn sentence, oft re- 
peated : 

" The pirate is ofif the narrows ! The pirate will 
soon be here ! " 

Then all would gaze seaward with startled faces, 
and would murmur : 

201 



202 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" The pirate — the Spanish pirate will be here." 

As they thus stood irresolutely, a strongly-knit 
fellow came walking towards the dock-end. He was 
clad in gray; his face was deeply seamed by long ex- 
posure to the elements ; and high top-boots of leather 
encased his lower limbs. 

** What ho ! Good citizens," said he. " Do I un- 
derstand that a Spaniard has frightened you all? 
Why, where's your courage? " 

"Courage?" answered a rotund-bodied merchant. 
" Of that we have a plenty. But we have no ship with 
Vk hich to combat this fellow — or fellows — for some 
of my skippers tell me that there are two of them off 
the coast, and that they've captured twenty trading 
vessels." 

The newcomer smiled. 

" I've got a staunch craft here," said he. " My 
name is Walker, and I hail from Bristol, England. 
My ship — the Duke Williatn — mounts but twenty 
guns, and my crew is but of thirty-two, yet, I know 
that many of you gentlemen will volunteer your serv- 
ices, particularly if there is to be a nice little battle." 

" Hear ! Hear ! " came from all sides. " You're the 
boy for us ! You're the chap we've been looking for ! 
Hear! Hear!" 

It did not take long to increase the crew of the 
Diikc William. Several of the wealthy colonists vol- 
unteered their services; many sailors were there who 
had been fighting on the Spanish Main. They were 
eager and anxious to join. So, before three days were 
out, the Ditke William spread her canvas for the open 



GEORGE WALKER 203 

sea, carrying one hundred men and an additional 
twenty guns. Now — you see — she could put up an 
excellent fight with the average pirate-ship which 
cruised about the low-lying and sandy coast. 

Out into the broad expanse of the Atlantic glided 
the little barque and eagerly the mariners scanned the 
horizon for some signs of the pirate. 

" She's been hereabouts!" cried one stout seaman, 
" For several of my mess-mates saw her sails down 
near the channel islands. And her flag was surely 
black with th' skull an' cross-bones." 

" Must have heard that we were coming, then," 
growled Captain Walker, " for there's nothing in 
view." 

In an hour's time he thought differently, for, 
"Sail ho!" sounded from the forward deck, and 
there, far off to leeward, was the outline of a long, 
blackish vessel, bearing no flag at her mizzen or stern. 

Crowding on all canvas — for the breeze was light 
— the Diikc IVilliani bore away towards her. " It 
must be the pirate ! " said all, for, also crowding on 
all sail, the vessel headed up the coast, and did her 
utmost to get away. 

On, on, went pursuer and pursued ; on, on, and the 
Duke William began to draw dangerously close to 
the fleeing vessel, which now could be easily seen. 
She was a brigantine, carrying about eighteen guns, 
with a high stern and graceful lines. No flags waved 
from her mast-heads. 

Suddenly the scudding sea-warrior pointed her nose 
in-shore, ran around the corner of a sandy island, and 



204 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

bore away into a seemingly large lagoon upon the 
other side. The Duke PVilliam followed, and, as she 
rounded a jutting sand-spit, there before her lay a 
little schooner, on the deck of which were seen several 
sailors, waving and gesticulating frantically. Behind, 
and on the shore, was an earth-work, from which 
several cannon pointed their black muzzles. On a 
flag-pole in the centre, waved a Spanish flag, and, 
beneath it, a black ensign upon which was the skull- 
and-cross-bones. 

" It's the pirate stronghold! " cried several, at once. 
" We're in for a tight skirmish ! " 

But Captain Walker only smiled. 

The brigantine, which he had been following, now 
rounded-to. opened her port-holes, and fired a couple 
of shots toward the pursuing craft. At the same 
time an English flag was hoisted on the schooner, and 
a fellow on her deck sang out through a speaking 
trumpet. 

"Thank Heaven you have come! We were only 
captured t\vo days ago! Hurrah for the English 
Hag!" 

The Duke William kept on after the brigantine, her 
mixed crew yelling with joy, now that they were to 
have an action. 

Bang! Bang! 

Her two forward guns spoke, and a shot went rip- 
ping through one of the fore-sails of the pirate. 

This was enough for the fighting spirit of those who 
sailed the Spanish INIain. For, putting about, the 
brigantine scudded through a narrow channel, known 



GEORGE WALKER 205 

only to her skipper (for no one else could have fol- 
lowed without grounding upon a sand-spit), and was 
soon running away upon the opposite side of a low- 
lying island, now flaunting the pirate-flag from her 
halyards. 

" She's gone ! " sadly remarked the gallant Captain 
Walker, " but we can capture the gun-battery. Make 
ready to go ashore, if needed! " 

Steering for the coast, the guns of the Duke Williani 
opened upon the sandy barricade, and shot after shot 
was soon making the dirt and gravel fly in every direc- 
tion : 

Pooni! Poom! Cit-pooiii! 

The cannon in the earth-work next began to speak, 
and, it was apparent, from the strange noises which 
some of them made, that they were full of rust. 

Cu-Poom! Cii-Pow! Chiick-chiick-cu-sivash! they 
roared, and a few balls began to whistle about the 
spars of the Diikc William. 

There were some accurate marksmen upon the 
deck of the British vessel, and, as she lay broadside 
to the fortification, one well-aimed shot struck a can- 
non and dismounted it ; while another shattered the 
flag-pole and brought down the flag with a crash. 

" Hurrah ! " shouted the men from Charleston. 
" Now we'll even up with these cvu'sed pirates for all 
the damage that they've done us. Now, we'll teach 
them not to ravage our coasts and catch our merchant 
ships!" 

Cii-whow! barked the rust-caked guns of the bar- 
ricade. "Go-slow! Go-back! Go-home! " 



206 FAMOUS PRIVATEEPtSMEN 

To this a full broadside roared, and the balls tore 
the top of the earth-work to shreds. 

"Now let thirty men take to the boats!" com- 
manded Captain Walker. " Steer for the beach and 
rush the barricade with pistols and cutlasses. I don't 
believe that there are more than a dozen men inside 
the earth-work." 

" Huzzah ! " was the cheerful answer to this order, 
and, in a few moments, several boats were racing for 
the beach, each eager to be the first ashore. 

As they approached, the anticpiated guns on the 
sand-spit became strangely silent, and, as the eager 
raiders rushed valiantly upon the pirate fortress, no 
shots were fired at them to impede their progress. 
With a wild yell they leaped over the side of the bar- 
ricade, only to find it deserted ; for whatever had been 
the force that had fired these cannon, it had taken to 
the brush as the English seamen drew near. Only a 
few charges of ammunition were there, so it was 
plainly evident that the ])irates (whatever their 
strength might have been) could only have held out 
for a few more rounds. 

" Hurrah ! Hurrah ! " shouted the raiders. " The 
fort is ours! " 

" And it's a sorry victory," said one of the crew, 
" for there's nothing here worth the having, except 
the cannon, and they couldn't stand more than two 
more shots without blowing up. I call it a pretty 
hollow success." 

In spite of this the men of Charleston were well 
pleased. They had dispersed the pirates; taken their 



GEORGE WALKER 207 

fort; and had re-captured a schooner which had re- 
cently been taken only a few miles from the harbor- 
mouth of that fair, southern city. 

When they sailed into their home port they received 
a tremendous ovation. The bells were rung in all the 
churches; shots were fired; trumpets were blown. 

" We could fall in with nothing that would stay for 
us upon the seas," said Captain Walker, modestly; but, 
in spite of this, he was treated like a great hero. All 
the influential persons in the Colony offered to sign 
a request that he might be given the command of a 
king's ship; but this he declined. So they tendered 
him an immense tract of land if he would remain in 
that country and drive off the pirates when next they 
became too bold and daring; but this he also declined, 
and stuck to his ship. In a few weeks he sailed for 
the Barbadoes, and then to England, in company with 
three unarmed trading-vessels which placed themselves 
under his convoy. The good people of Charleston 
bade him a sad and affectionate farewell. 

George Walker sailed forth smiling, but he was now 
to have far more trouble than his little affair with the 
pirates. 

When half way to England, a terrific gale struck 
the Dtike William and her convoys, which separated 
them by many miles, and made this good vessel 
(which had dispersed the pirates) leak like a sieve. 
The gale continued in its violence, while Captain 
Walker was so ill that the ship's surgeon despaired of 
his life. But note how grit and nerve pulled him 
through ! 



208 FAMOUS PRIVATEER8MEN 

On the- second day of the tempest, a sailor rushed 
into his cabin, crying: 

"Captain! Captain! We'll founder, for the water 
is pouring into our bottom by the hogshead. We're 
gone for unless we take to the boats! " 

Captain Walker was not the man to leave his ship 
in such a crisis. 

"Throw all of the guns overboard, but two!" he 
ordered. " We need those in order to signal for help 
if a vessel comes near us. That will lighten us so that 
we can still float awhile." 

This w'as done, but, as the last cannon shot into the 
waves, a sailor burst into his cabin with the intelligence 
that the men had prepared to desert in the tenders. 

" Carry me on deck! " roared the resolute captain. 
" I'll give these cowards a piece of my mind." 

Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where 
he remonstrated with his men in the strongest lan- 
guage possible. In spite of this, many clustered about 
one of the boats. 

" The ship's a-sinking," cried one. " She won't 
stand up for an hour." 

As he spoke, the welcome sound of, "Sail ho!" 
arose, above the wash and roar of the angry water. 

Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them, 
but, to the dismay of all, she hastily hauled off again. 

Captain Walker was astonished. " She thinks us an 
armed enemy," said he. " Fire a gun, men, and cut 
the mizzen-mast in two, so that it falls overboard. 
That will show the stranger that we're a friend in dis- 
tress." 



GEORGE WALKER 209 

His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast 
came ripping and tearing over the side. A gun also 
roared, and the stranger, now convinced that the ship 
was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing down upon 
the crippled Duke PVilliaiu, to the rescue. 

" She's one of our own convoy ! " shouted a sea- 
man, waving his hand joyfully. And such she proved 
to be. Captain Walker had saved his crew by his 
foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown 
all of his cannon overboard he would have had no 
gun with which to hail the stranger, and, had he not 
cut away his own mast, she would have gone away, 
fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the 
brave and thoughtful Captain Walker! He reached 
England, at last, but he and his men were in a sorry 
plight, for the vessel which had rescued them was 
almost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in 
a great whirl of eddying foam, not half an hour after 
they had left her. Thus ended the career of the good 
ship which had chased all of the pirates away from the 
harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a 
gallant craft. 

Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took 
charge of a brigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in 
spite of the fact that war had been declared with 
France, and the privateers and gun-boats of that na- 
tion hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure 
some English merchant vessel, as a prize. 

" I see that these fellows mean to catch me. if they 
can," said the keen-witted mariner. " So I intend to 
be ready for them if I do not happen to be near an 



210 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

English man-of-vvarsman when they come saiHng 
by." 

He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, 
which were painted black, so that, at a distance, they 
looked exactly like the real thing. Upon his vessel 
were only six cannon, so when — a short time after- 
wards — he was chased by a French privateer off the 
coast of Scotland — he had an excellent oi)portunity 
to " bluff " the bold marauder. 

As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Cap- 
tain Walker was on kept steadily upon her way, and, 
through his glass, the cautious mariner saw that his 
pursuer carried fully twenty guns. 

" Run out our dummy cannon ! " he ordered. 

Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty- 
five in number, and — as the Frenchman was now 
within shooting distance — the English boat was 
luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, 
ensign, and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a 
gun was fired across the bow of the arrogant priva- 
teer. 

" Come on ! " shouted bold Walker. " I am waiting 
for you ! " 

But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, 
she turned tail in a hurry, filled away, and made off 
as fast as a freshening breeze would drive her. 

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English 
skipper. " Bluffed by a lot of wooden guns. Ha ! 
Ha! Ha!" 

And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer. 

This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker 



GEORGE WALKER 211 

was soon to meet with some fortune which was quite 
the reverse. 

It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had 
accepted the command of the privateer Mars, of 
twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty men, 
which sailed from London for a cruise in the English 
channel. With her was the Boscawcn, another priva- 
teer with ahout the same number of guns, but with a 
crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They soon 
had an adventure which was not all to the liking of 
bold George Walker. 

At midnight, late in December, the • two priva- 
teers were running near the coast of France. There 
was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh breeze, 
so the steersmen could not well see what way they 
were going. Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels 
loomed up in the blackness, and the twinkling lights 
from their port-holes shone upon the dripping sides of 
the British privateers. Voices came through the mist 
— French voices — so it was apparent that the ships 
were not friends. 

" Those fellows are showing much alarm," said 
Captain Walker, a few moments later. " I therefore 
believe that the vessels are full of treasure. We'll 
hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whether 
or no we cannot capture a rich cargo." 

Next morning, at eight o'clock, the fog suddenly 
lifted, disclosing — not two treasure ships — but two 
French men-of-war; one bearing seventy- four guns, 
the other sixty-four. 

" Egad ! " ejaculated the startled Walker. " We're 



212 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

in a hornet's nest! I guess we'd better run for 
it!" 

The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships, 
as well as men-of-war; both bound from the West 
Indies, with cargoes worth about four millions ster- 
ling ($20,000,000), which they were carrying into the 
harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting 
trim, as their heavy cargoes made them low in the 
water, and very unwieldy. It is probable that they 
would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had not 
the captain of the Boscawcn turned tail and lied, leav- 
ing the Mars all alone. 

" Did you ever see such a coward ? " cried Captain 
Walker, with heat. " Boys ! We're in for it now ! " 

Sure enough, they were : for the Frenchmen saw 
that only one enemy was left, and immediately sent 
the sixty-four gun ship — the Flcuron — in pursuit. 

Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on 
all sail, but the large gun-boat quickly overhauled 
him. 

" Gentlemen! " said Captain Walker, as she rapidly 
approached. " I do not mean to be so rash as to at- 
tempt a regular engagement with so superior a force; 
all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to 
get away — if possible — without striking our flag; 
and, be assured, I shall not call upon you to fight un- 
less there is excellent opportunity for • success. The 
ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer of 
the two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good 
fortune with our shots, we may bring down a topmast 
or yard ; or hurt her rigging so as to retard her pur- 



GEORGE WALKER 213 

suit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, my hearties, 
do not lose your nerve ! " 

These wise remarks were greeted with a "Hip! 
Hip ! Hooray ! " 

Now was a lively chase. The Mars hoisted the 
English flag, opened with her stern guns, and put on 
all available canvas. But she was not a fast sailer, 
and gradually but surely, the Fleiiron crept up on one 
side, and the other French man-of-war upon the other. 
She, too, had entered the chase. 

Finally the French vessels had the British privateer 
directly between them. 

"The jig is up!" cried Captain Walker, sadly. 
" Gentlemen, we do not strike to one ship only. Haul 
down the colors ! " 

Down came the proud ensign, the sails were low- 
ered, and the gallant Walker entered a boat, in order 
that he might be put aboard the Fleuron and give up 
his sword. When he arrived on the deck he found the 
French captain by no means in the politest of humors. 

After receiving the weapon of the vanquished pri- 
vateersman, the Frenchman thundered in very good 
English : 

" How dare you fire against a force like mine in so 
small a ship? Sirrah, you must be stark mad. I 
compliment you upon your lack of judgment." 

Captain Walker was nettled. 

" Sir," he replied, with warmth, " if you will look 
at my commission you will find that I had as good a 
right to fight as you, yourself, had. Furthermore, if 
my force had not been so inferior to yours, I would 



214 FAMOUS PEIYATEERSMEN 

have shown you more civil treatment on board my 
own ship, after I had captured you." 

The Frenchman Vvinced. 

" How many of your bushwhackers have I killed? " 
said he. 

" None at all, sir! " replied the Englishman. 

" Then, sir, you should be well ashamed of your 
scurvy fighting. For you have killed six of my brave 
men and have wounded several with pieces of glass. 
Pray, when, sir, did the rules of war allow glass to 
be used as ammunition? " 

" You lie," cried Captain Walker. " No glass was 
used by my men." 

The Frenchman curbed his anger. 

" Then what was it? " said he. 

Here a British seaman interrupted. 

" If it would please your French Majesty," he said, 
with a bow, " I reckon I know what it was that you 
took for glass. The captain of one of our stern guns, 
when he found out that we must surrender, sir, took 
about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying : 
' Sooner than let these French rascals plunder me of 
all Fve got in the world, Fll see what a bribe can do! ' 
So he wrapped the money up in a bag, sir, crammed 
it into a gun, and let fly at your deck. Faith, your 
men were lucky to be struck by good, British coin! " 

At this all had a good laugh, and the unpleasantness 
between the French captain and George Walker was 
at an end. The privateersman was treated with the 
greatest courtesy and was made as comfortable as 
could be. 



GEORGE WALKER 215 

The action took place on Friday and the ships were 
headed for Brest, about three days' sail away. At day- 
break on Sunday morning, four large boats were 
sighted astern, and it did not take long to realize that 
they were coming up pretty fast and were flying the 
English colors. 

" Hurray! " shouted Captain Walker. " No French 
prison for me. Hurray ! " 

The English scjuadron gained steadily. The boats 
grew nearer and nearer, while Walker's hopes soared 
higher and higher. Finally, the French officer, who 
was in charge of his own boat — the Mars — put his 
helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw one of 
the British vessels after him. He was successful, for 
a seventy-gun ship made after him, chased him for 
several miles, and finally re-captured the English 
privateer. The other ships kept on and drew closer 
and closer. 

Seeing that an action would soon take place, the 
French captain politely requested Walker and his 
officers to go below. 

" Messieurs ! " said he. " There will soon be a leetle 
afifair in which the balls will fly. You will be better 
of¥ in the hold, where they cannot reach you so easily 
as up here." 

" Sir ! " replied the English privateer-captain. " I 
go below with the greatest of pleasure, for I am now 
certain of my liberty. Au revoir! " 

" Do not count your chickens before they hatch ! " 
cried the Frenchman, after his retreating form. 

The British vessels were the Hampton Court of 



216 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

seventy guns, and the Sunderland and Dreadnought of 
sixty each ; so, being three to two, they should have 
had a fairly easy victory over the Frenchmen. But 
the Sunderland lost a spar overboard, and dropped 
astern ; so it left but two to two : an even affair. 

Alas for gallant Captain Walker! Although the 
Englishmen came near the two French men-of-war. 
they hung about without firing a shot ; allowed the 
Frenchmen to sail on unmolested, and thus carry their 
astonishingly rich treasure into Brest, amid wild and 
enthusiastic cheering of their crews, and groans of dis- 
appointment from the English prisoners. 

Yet these same prisoners had little cause to com- 
plain of their treatment when they arrived at Brest; 
for they were landed at once, and the captain and of- 
ficers were liberated on parole. The French also 
treated them very well and invited the valorous George 
Walker to many a repast, where they laughed at the 
narrow shave that he had had from death, — for they 
had left the Flcuron none too soon. 

On the day following the landing, Captain Walker 
was seated in the office of a counting-house, near the 
dock-end, and was writing a letter to the captain of 
the Fleuron, requesting him to send him his letter-of- 
credit, which was in a tin box in a cabin of the French 
man-of-war, when a terrible Boom! sounded upon his 
ears. 

A sailor came runnmg past the open window. 

" The Fleuron has blown up ! " he cried. " The 
Fleuron is a total loss ! " 

Captain Walker dashed into the street ; to the end 



GEORGE WALKER 217 

of the quay; and there a sad spectacle greeted his 
eager gaze. Strewn about upon the surface of the 
water were broken spars ; pieces of sail ; and the de- 
bris of a once gallant man-of-war. The remnants of 
the Flcuron were burning brightly. 

The captain of the French ship came running by. 
" Helas ! " he wailed. " A careless gunner has des- 
troyed my gallant vessel. Helas ! Helas ! " 

It was too true. Four or five powder barrels had 
been left in the magazine for saluting purposes, and 
c[uite a little loose powder had been allowed to lie upon 
the floor. Some careless seamen had gone down into 
the hold with a decrepit, old lantern. The handle 
broke, the flame set fire to the loose powder, — and 
that was the end of the gallant ship Flcuron. She 
burned to the water's edge and then went down to the 
bottom with a dull, sizzling hiss ; while the treasure 
also disappeared. Later on, divers secured a part of 
it, but much that was of value was never recovered. 

Captain Walker did not long grieve over the loss of 
his letter-of-credit, left on board the ill-starred Flcu- 
ron, for he was exchanged, after a few weeks, and 
was sent back to England with his crew. This was in 
1745. Fie lost no time in reporting to the owners of 
the Mars, and so well did they think of him, that in 
a short while they sent him upon another privateering 
venture aboard the Boscazvcu, which, as you remember, 
had run away from the Mars, after she had fallen in 
with the two French men-of-war. Now occurred his 
greatest sea-fight. 

The Boscawcn had been built in France and had 



218 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

been a prize, taken at sea. She mounted twenty-eight 
guns (nine-pounders), but Walker added two more, 
and shipped a crew of three hundred and fourteen men. 
Without waiting for the Mars, the stout sea-dog put 
out to sea on April 19th, 1745, steering for the shores 
of France where cruised the prize-laden clipper ships, 
and the unwelcome men-of-warsmen. The British 
privateersman cruised about for a whole month with- 
out any luck, and, falling in with the privateer Shccr- 
ncss, joined with her in a little run in search of in- 
offensive merchantmen. At daybreak a cry came from 
the forward watch, — 

"Sails ho! Sails ho! Off the starboard quarter! 
There' re eight o' them an' heading no' east." 

Both the privateers started in pursuit, but the Sheer- 
ness was left far astern, as the Boscawen was a speedy 
sailer. The latter drew near the eight scudding sail, 
which suddenly veered about and formed a line, await- 
ing an attack. The Sheerness was way astern. Would 
Captain Walker adxance? 

It was eight against one, and tliere was no certainty 
what was the armament of the vessels now standing 
in a row, all ready for action. The faces of the officers 
on the Boscawen showed anxiety and suspense, but 
there was no shadow of fear uix)n the countenance of 
Captain Walker, who now addressed them in the fol- 
lowing words : 

" Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the num- 
ber of prizes before us too many. Be assured, my 
good friends, that by their being armed, they have 
somethinsf on board of them that is worth defendins:. 



GEORGE WALKER 219 

I take them to be merchantmen with letters of marque 
(privateers), and homeward bound. Without doubt 
we shall meet with some opposition, in which I know 
that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must 
conquer these superior numbers by superior skill. Be 
cool. Be careful that you aim correctly, for, as we 
shall be pressed on all sides, let every man do his best 
to engage the enemy that he sees before him. 

" In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confi- 
dence in me for leading you on, I will pawn my life 
upon the fact that I will bring you off victorious." 

" Hurray ! Hurray for Walker ! " came the re- 
assuring response. 

" Then go to your quarters, my hearties ! Fight like 
Britishers of old, and all will be well! " cried the brave 
mariner. 

Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the 
Boscawen now sailed into the centre of the enemy's 
line. 

" Do not fire until I give the word ! " cried Captain 
Walker, as the salt spray kicked and splashed about 
the bow of the oncoming Boscazucn. " Then hammer 
away like anvils on a sledge!" 

Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English 
privateer, but all save three crawled on deck in order 
to render what assistance they could in pointing and 
handling the guns. 

Now was a glorious fight. 

Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p! 

The French privateers v/ere hammering away as the 
Englishman approached and their balls cut and tore 



220 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

through the rigging, damaging the mizzen top-sail, 
and spHtting a top-mast. Steering straight for the 
largest vessel, Walker waited until he was within close 
range and then gave the order : 

" Fire, and hull her if you can." 

Poof! Cr-a-a-sh! 

A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the 
Boscazven, and the solid shot bit and tore the stranger 
like a terrier mouthing a rat. 

The valiant little privateer was now in the midst 
of the enemy. Two were to right of her; two to the 
left of her ; one across her bow ; and one across her 
stern. Two of the eight decamped, at this juncture; 
making the odds six, instead of eight, to one. 

" Pozv! Pozv! Cii-hooni! " 

The vessel astern was banging away like a Banshee, 
but a sudden crash from the stern guns so badly dam- 
aged her that she hauled off. It was now five to one. 

" Keep it up, boys ! " cried Walker, above the roar 
and rattle of the fray. " You're doing splendidly. 
You all deserve statues in the temple of fame." 

" Huzzah ! " shouted his men. " Hurray for the 
Boscazven. Down with the Frenchmen ! " 

" Cu-pozif! Boom! Boom!" roared the cannon, 
while the broadsides from the Boscazven were delivered 
without either confusion or disorder. The five were 
sparring gamely, but they were lightly armed, with 
only a few guns to each, so the thirty nine-pounders 
on board the English privateer were about an equal 
match for the greater numbers of the foe. 

Thus the fight raged for an hour, when, suddenly. 



GEORGE WALKER 221 

the ensign upon the mast of the French flagship was 
seen to flutter to the deck. Ten minutes later a cry 
arose from a sailor aboard the Boscazuen: 

"Look, Captaan, she's sinking!" 

Sure enough, the accurate fire from the British 
privateer had so riddled the hull of the Frenchman, 
that she fast filled with water, and sank, stern first, 
her men escaping in their small boats. 

" That's one less, anyway," mused Captain Walker. 

The remaining four continued the fight, but the 
little privateer was too much for them. Around and 
around she veered, broadsiding with astonishing accu- 
racy, and knocking the spars about like a foot-ball 
team kicking a ball. "Pow! Pozv! " the guns roared, 
and the men cried, " Remember the oath of our cap- 
tain ! Let's take 'em all ! " 

It began to look as if they would do it, too; for, 
now upon the starboard cjuarter appeared the white 
sails of a vessel, and, as she approached, a joyous cheer 
arose from the deck of the Boscawcn, for it was the 
Sheerness. 

" Now we'll get 'em ! Now we'll get 'em ! " yelled 
the British sailors, and they plied their guns with re- 
newed activity and care. 

Down came the flag upon one of the Frenchmen, 
and — in a few moments — down came another. 
Then, as the Sheerness rolled closer, two more ensigns 
fluttered to the deck. There was but one Frenchman 
left, and she made ofif, with the newcomer hot in pur- 
suit. 

" Hurray ! Hurray ! Hurray ! " The sailors on 



222 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

board the Boscazven were fairly jumping for joy. 
" Hurray ! Hurray ! Hurray ! " they yelled. 

And well might they cheer, for had they not won 
one of the pluckiest sea-fights of all history? The 
enemy is said to have had one hundred and thirteen 
killed and drowned, while the casualties of the Bos- 
cawen amounted to but one killed and seven wounded. 
" And this," says an old chronicler of the spirited af- 
fair, " was due to the fact that the British privateer 
had a bulwark of elm-planking, man-high, around her 
deck. It was so fashioned that there was a step on 
which the marines could mount and fire, and then 
come down in order to load. Furthermore, this elm- 
wood did not splinter ; but kept out the bullets, and 
closed up around the holes made by shot." 

At any rate, it was a glorious victory, and when — 
a few hours later — the Shccrncss came back with the 
other French vessel a prize, the total capture amounted 
to six vessels : homeward bound traders from Mar- 
tinique, provided with letters of marque, and with 
about six guns each. Their crews were undoubtedly 
undisciplined and ill-used to shooting, else how could 
they have done so badly with the Boscazven? 

The prizes were headed for the English coast and 
arrived at King's Road, Bristol, in a few days, where 
a swarm of eager sight-seers crowded about the shat- 
tered craft. 

"My! My!" said many. "This Walker is an- 
other Drake. He is a valiant soul! " 

And so thought the British Admiralty, for they sent 
h.im a letter (upon his reporting to them) which read: 



GEORGE WALKER 223 

" We cannot too highly congratulate and commend 
you upon the seamanship and courage which you have 
displayed in the capture of these French vessels. Your 
daring and ability should always make your name one 
to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea. 
May your future career upon the ocean but add to the 
laurels w-hich you have already won!" 

And were they not right? 

Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and 
seldom has one vessel come off victorious against such 
odds. If you love a game warrior, cheer for George 
Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer of 
the fighting quality in a man, give three times three 
for the privateersman who had the nerve to sail into 
eight vessels, — and won out. 

So much, indeed, did the British owners of the pri- 
vateer vessels think of Captain Walker, that he was 
now placed in command of four ships, known as " The 
Royal Family of Privateers," for each w-as named 
after some member of the English royal family. These 
were the Princess Amelia, of twenty-four guns and 
one hundred and fifty men : the Prince Frederick of 
twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men : the 
Duke of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men ; 
and the King George, of thirty-two guns and three 
hundred men. This last boat was commanded by 
Walker, himself; the Duke by Edv/ard Dottin, a 
staunch sailor ; the Prince Frederick by Hugh 
Bromedge; and the Princess Amelia by Robert Den- 
ham. The entire squadron carried nearly a thousand 
men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that 



224 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

it could do quite a little damage to the enemies of 
Merrie England. 

Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met witli 
hard luck, for the Prince Frederick ran upon a rock- 
in Bristol Channel, and had to be left behind; for she 
was badly punctured below the water-line. The three 
others sailed for the coast of France, and — a week 
later — had a startling little adventure. 

A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the 
three English sea-robbers were gliding along within 
easy gun-shot of each other, when it was evident that 
they were near some other vessels. Voices came out 
of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close of 
day), and the wash of water could be heard, as the 
waves l>eat against solid oak planking. 

" Egad ! " whispered Captain Walker to one of his 
lieutenants. " Listen, my boy, and tell me whether 
these voices are French, Spanish, or English." 

The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear. 

The szvish, szvish of water came to the eager senses 
of the anxious privateersman. That was all! 

Captain Walker passed the word around among 
his men to be absolutely silent, and, as he strained his 
hearing, in order to catch the faintest sound from the 
strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence, 

" Pressy ! Chantez une chanson. Je vais me 
coucher." (Sing a song, Pressy. I am going to 
bed.) 

In a second the gallant Walker knew that, as once 
before, he was in the midst of some French ves- 
sels. 



GEORGE WALKER 225 

"Caught!" he whispered. "And I believe that 
they're men-of-warsmen ! Now we're in a pretty 
pickle! " 

His officers scowled. 

" I know that they're men-o-warsmen," said one, 
" for, just now, the fog lifted for a second, and I could 
make out — by their lights — that they were large 
gun-ships." 

Captain Walker looked dejected. 

" The deuce," said he. 

But he soon regained his composure. 

" Put every light out on board," he ordered. 
" These fellows see us, for I hear them bearing over 
our way." 

Sure enough, from the swashing of water and glim- 
mer of lights in the fog, it could be seen that the great 
lumbering men-of-war were closing in upon the priva- 
teer. But the Frenchmen had a human eel to capture 
and he was equal to the occasion. 

" Bring up a couple of casks from below ! " cried 
Captain Walker. They were soon on deck. 

" Now put a lantern in one and lash them together," 
he continued. " We'll alter our course and skip, while 
the Frenchies will follow this light." 

The ruse worked magnificently, and, when morning 
dawned and the bright sun burned off the fog, the 
French men-of-war found themselves hovering around 
a couple of old casks with a lantern tied to the top; 
while Captain Walker in the King George was scud- 
ding along the French coast, many miles away. At 
which the French captain remarked, 



226 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

"Sapristi! L'oiseau s'est envolle." (Egad! The 
bird has flown!) 

Not long after this " The Royal Family of Priva- 
teers " took some valuable prizes, and, having chased 
a small, French merchantman into the bay of Safia, in 
Morocco, Captain Walker determined to capture her 
at night, by sending a party against her in the long- 
boats. A second lieutenant was put in charge of this 
venture, and, at dark three tenders, crowded with 
armed seamen and propelled by muffled oars, started 
after the prize. As they' neared the merchantman a 
hail came through the blackness : 

"Qui est la?" (Who is there?) 

No answer was made to this, but the boats kept 
straight on. 

Crash! Bang! 

A gun roared in the faces of the privateers, and 
shots came falling around them like hail-stones, — but 
still they kept on. 

Again Crash! Crash! Crash! 

The Frenchmen were plying their guns right will- 
ingly, but the English sailors could not be stopped. 
and they neared the vessel under vigorous sweeps of 
the oars. The lieutenant in command was badly 
wounded, and was forced to lie in the bottom of his 
boat, but — in a few moments — the tenders were 
alongside the merchantman, and the sailors, with a 
wild yell, were clambering to her deck. There was a 
fierce hand-to-hand struggle, but nothing would gain- 
say the rush of the British tars. In twenty minutes 
the fight was all over and the vessel was towed out of 



GEORGE WALKER 227 

the bay, in triumph, next morning. As she was a 
smart, little craft she was turned into a privateer in 
place of the Prince Frederick (which had run 
aground) and was christened the Prince George. 

The " Royal Family " continued upon its way, made 
many captures, and — after eight months — put into 
the harbor of Lisbon with prizes and prize-money 
amounting" to £220,000 (about $1,100,000). So you 
can see that privateering was a very lucrative trade in 
those days, when successfully pursued. Not a single 
man had been killed aboard the little fleet, but many 
had been severely wounded. The ships were over- 
hauled, re-fitted, and, being joined by the Prince 
Frederick, amounted to six in number, for the vessel 
captured in the harbor of Safia had been converted 
into a full-fledged privateer. Now was to be one of 
the most gruelling sea-fights in which George Walker 
ever engaged. 

In the month of October the squadron was cruising 
off of Lagos Bay, on the coast of Portugal, when a 
large sail was sighted at about five in the morning. 
The Princess Amelia was at anchor in the harbor of 
Lagos, so Captain Walker sent a small sloop (a re- 
cent capture) after her to tell her to " Hurry up and 
get under way," while he gave signal to the other 
vessels to chase the stranger at once. All started after 
the foreigner, who stood to the northward and could 
be seen to be crowding on all possible canvas. There 
were four ships in this merry little chase, but two of 
them — the Duke and the Prince George — dropped 
out, after about an hour's run. They either could not 



228 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

get up, or else their captains grew tired of the af- 
fair. 

On, on, went the other privateers, and — at about 
noon — Walker drew near the fugitive, in the King 
George. The Prince Frederick, with her twenty-six 
guns, was still some distance away, but Walker kept 
after the stranger, although he now saw that she was 
a large vessel, — much more powerful than the King 
George, with her thirty-two guns and three hundred 
men. He was rapidly nearing the big fellow, when it 
grew suddenly calm, so that neither could move. 

At this moment an ejaculation of astonishment 
burst from the lips of some of the officers aboard the 
saucy King George. 

" She's a seventy-four! " cried several. "We're in 
a tight hole ! " 

Sure enough, the pursued hoisted her colors, ran 
out her guns, and showed herself to be a man-of- 
warsman carrying seventy-four cannon : over double 
the amount of armament aboard the plucky King 
George. 

" I can't make out whether she's Spanish or Por- 
tuguese," said Captain Walker, gazing carefully at her 
drooping flag. 

The colors hung down in the dead calm, and it was 
impossible to tell whether they were Spanish or Por- 
tuguese ; for the two ensigns — at that period — were 
very similar. 

The sea-warriors drifted along, eyeing each other, 
for about an hour, when the stranger ran in her lower 
deck-guns and closed her port-holes. 



GEORGE WALKER 229 

" She's a treasure ship," cried a sailor. " And she 
won't fight if she can avoid it ! " 

Walker turned to his officers and asked, 

"Gentlemen, shall we fight her?" 

" Aye ! Aye ! " came from all. " She's afraid of 
us ! " 

The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had 
been recently chased by some English men-of-war and 
had already landed her treasure, to the value of about 
one million sterling (about $5,000,000). A slight 
breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and 
the big ship kept on her course; the gamey King 
George following, while the white sails of the Prince 
Frederick were far astern, as the breeze had not yet 
struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen 
anxious for a fight, and a chance to overhaul the sup- 
posed treasure which the stranger was carrying. At 
eight o'clock the King George w^as struck by a favor- 
able pufT of wind, and came quite close to the seventy- 
four. It was time for battle. 

"What ship is that?" hailed Captain Walker, in 
the Portuguese tongue. He was cleared for action 
and his men were all lying down at their quarters. 
There was no answer to his challenge. 

" What ship is that? " he asked again; this time in 
English. 

A voice came back, — also in English, 

" And what ship may you be ? " 

" The King George." 

Crash! B-oo-m! 

A thundering broadside belched from the side of 



230 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

the seventy-four, dismounting two guns on the port 
side of the King George, and bringing the main topsail 
yard crashing to the deck. It was now bright moon- 
Hght, and in its radiance the flag of the stranger was 
seen to blow straight out, disclosing her nationality to 
be Spanish. She was the Glorioso: a strong and pow- 
erful vessel, ably officered and ably manned. She 
towered above the little King George like a church- 
spire, and her broadsides now sputtered with great 
regularity. 

Crash ! Crash ! Crash ! 

The sprightly little King George kept after the big 
warship like a sword-fish chasing a whale. She drew 
so close that some burning wads from the Spanish 
guns set fire to her mainsail. Continually hoping that 
the Prince Frederick would come up, the gallant 
Walker hammered away at the Glorioso with furious 
precision, and drove her so near the rocks off Cape 
Vincent that the castle guns began to play upon the 
two grappling warriors of the sea. The British sea- 
captain fought and commanded with " a calmness 
peculiar to himself " and his example secured order 
and discipline even in the thickest of the fight, when 
the mainsail was set on fire. He was magnificent in 
action. 

So the unequal struggle kept on. By half-past ten 
the King George had been so severely damaged aloft 
that she could not have escaped if she had tried. All 
the braces were shot away; the foremast was quite 
disabled; and the mainmast was badly splintered. 
Battered, torn, and distressed she kept banging away 



GEORGE WALKER 231 

at the great, towering Spaniard ; while the big fellow 
ceased her hre somewhat, and ever now and again 
let go a broadside, like the blow from the mouth of a 
huge whale. It sounded like, Chn-spow! 

But hurrah ! hurrah ! The Prince Frederick had at 
last caught the breeze, and came bouncing by, her little 
pennons fluttering like so many silk stockings on a 
clothes-line. 

"Are you all well?" shouted her commander, as 
he neared the splintered King George. " You look as 
if you're sinking." 

Captain Walker came to the rail with the speaking- 
trumpet in his hand. 

" One killed and fifteen wounded," he answered. 
" Now sail after that Spanish villain and take her, 
in revenge for all the damage that she has done me. 
She's a treasure ship." 

"All right," Captain Dottin called back, and he 
kept on after the Glorioso, which was now rapidly 
drawing away. 

By the bright moonlight it could be seen that the 
Duke and the Prince George were also approaching. 
And, when they came close enough to the maimed 
and battered King George, her captain called to them, 
" to keep on after the Spaniard, and catch the rascal." 
They continued on their way, and, at daybreak the 
three vessels could be seen, through the glass, as they 
closed in upon the Spanish game-cock from three 
sides. " She'll be ours before nightfall," said Captain 
Walker, chuckling. 

The headmost ship, apparently the Duke under 



232 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Captain Dottin, could now be seen to hotly engage the 
Glorioso, which greatly displeased the captain of the 
dismantled King George. 

" Dottin will fire away all of his cartridges," said 
he, turning to a few of his officers, who clustered 
around him. " He will shoot them all off at too great 
a distance, and will afterwards be obliged to load 
with loose powder, by which some fatal accident is 
sure to occur. He's a brave fellow, but a rash one! " 

He had scarcely spoken, when a broadside rang out. 
Simultaneously, with the discharge of the guns, a 
pillar of smoke and flame shot high into the air. 

" Good Heavens, the Duke has blown up ! " cried 
Captain Walker. " Dottin and his brave followers 
have found a watery grave!" 

" It is merely the smoke of a broadside," one of the 
officers interrupted. 

"No! No!" answered Walker, dejectedly. "It's 
the last that will ever be seen of noble Dottin and his 
men ! " 

The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be 
seen upon the surface of the water. The Glorioso 
was still belching both smoke and flame, and near her 
were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze of 
smoke and fog. Could it not have been the Duke, 
after all ? " Vain thought," cried bold Walker, aloud. 
" Our bravest and best ship has gone to the bottom." 

This terrible incident had such an effect upon the 
seamen of the King George that Captain Walker called 
the officers aside into the companionway, and there 
made them a speech. 



GEORGE WALKER 233 

" My brave men," said he, " you must keep up an 
air of cheerfulness before these fellows of ours, for, 
otherwise they will be backward in fighting, and will 
not have the courage which we desire. Go among 
them and show no sign that you are lacking in pleas- 
antry." 

As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden 
explosions, mingled with cries of alarm. 

"Gad zooks! What's happened!" cried all, rush- 
ing to the deck. 

They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew 
was in a panic ; some clinging outside the ship ; some 
climbing out upon the bowsprit, all ready to jump 
overboard should the vessel blow up. 

Captain Walker w^as astonished. " Why, men ! " 
said he. " What means this confusion? " 

It was easily explained, for the alarm had been 
caused by a seaman who stepped upon a number of 
loaded muskets, which had been covered by a sail. 
One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some 
spare ammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely 
demoralized the crew; who still were thinking of the 
sad tragedy which they had just witnessed. Order 
was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn down 
and bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to 
their posts. When men have their nerves shattered, it 
is easy to startle them. 

But how about the Gloriosof 

The fair-fighting Spaniard w^as far out of sight, by 
now, still whanging away at her many enemies, and 
still proudly flaunting the flag of Arragon in the faces 



234 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

of the British war-dogs, who were snapping and snarl- 
ing at her Hke a wolf pack. What became of her was 
not known for several days, when the poor, battered 
King George staggered into a sheltering harbor, there 
to meet with the Duke herself, which was Dottin's 
good ship, — the one which all had thought to have 
exploded and sunk. 

" Hurray ! " shouted many. " She's afloat after 
all ! " 

Eager questioning brought out the fact that it had 
been the frigate Dartmouth which had exploded; a 
vessel which had run near the fight in order to see 
the fun. Some loose powder had set fire to her maga- 
zine, and thus she had suffered the same fate as the 
Fleuron, which, as you remember, had blown up, when 
at anchor in the harbor of Brest. It's a ztnse ship that 
keeps away from a sea battle. 

Only seventeen of the crew of this unfortunate 
craft had been picked up by the boats of the Prince 
Frederick; one of whom was an Irish lieutenant 
named O'Brien, who was hauled aboard Dottin's ves- 
sel, clad only in a night shirt. 

" Sirrah ! " said he, bowing politely. " You must 
excuse the unfitness of my dress to come aboard a 
strange ship, but really I left my own in such a hurry 
that I had no time to stay for a change." He had 
been blown out of a port-hole! 

An additional vessel, the RitsscI, had aided in the 
capture of the powerful Glorioso, so it had taken four 
privateers to down the proud Castilian : the Duke, the 
Prince George, the Prince Frederick, and the Russel. 



GEORGE WALKER 235 

Certainly she had put up a magnificent battle and she 
had completely crippled the stout little craft sailed by 
Captain Walker, who was now filled with chagrin and 
mortification, when he found that the treasure (which 
he had been sure was in the hold) had been safely 
landed at Ferrol, before he had sighted this valorous 
man-of-warsman. It was a great blow both to him 
and to his men, and, upon arriving at Lisbon he was 
met by one of the owners of his own vessel, who 
severely reprimanded him for fighting with such a 
powerful boat. 

" Captain Walker," said he, " I fear that your fight- 
ing blood is superior to your prudence! " 

But to this, the game old sea-dog replied, with con- 
siderable heat : 

" Had the treasure been aboard the Glorioso, as I 
expected, my dear sir, your compliment would have 
been far different. Or had we let her escape from us 
with the treasure aboard, what would you have said 
then?" 

To these sage reflections the owner did not reply. 

The honesty and courage of this able seaman were 
never questioned, and the following incident bears 
good witness to the first quality. Upon one occasion 
he was sailing for Lisbon in a well-armed privateer, 
when a couple of East India trading ships offered him 
£i,ooo ($5,000) if he would act as their guard and 
protect them from the enemy. 

" Gentlemen," said he to the captain of these vessels, 
** I shall never take a reward for what I consider it 
my duty to do without one. I consider it my bounden 



236 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

duty to conduct you both safely into port, for you 
are both British ships, and I am engaged to fight the 
enemies of our King." 

So he convoyed them safely into port and would 
not take even the smallest present, in recompense for 
his services. 

As a fighter he had no superior. War is simply 
glorified sport and those who are best trained athlet- 
ically can usually win upon the battle-field. Did not 
Wellington say, " The battle of Waterloo was won 
upon the foot-ball grounds of Eton and Harrow?" 
Which was another way of saying that the boys who 
had learned to stand punishment upon the athletic 
field, could take it manfully and well upon the field of 
battle. 

Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his 
sailors continually practice both gunnery and work 
with the cutlass. They were always in training and 
always prepared. That is the reason why they won. 
As you know, if you want to win in athletics you have 
to train hard and practice daily. If you want to win 
at warfare you have to do likewise. The most athletic 
nation is the nation which will win in the long fight, 
providing that it has sufficient resources and money 
to carry out a war, once that it has placed its men in 
the field. It takes a great deal of money to fight a 
war, but it takes trained men also, and those who are 
the most fit will win every time. 

The English are an athletic nation, an island na- 
tion, and great numbers of her people have had to 
follow the sea as a matter of course. Hence England 



GEORGE WALKER 237 

has always had a vast quantity of well-trained seamen 
at her beck and call. For this reason she has been 
more successful upon the ocean than many of her 
neighbors. Will she continue to be? 

// she continues to breed men like George Walker 
there is little reason to doubt that she will akvays be 
a zvinner in sea fighting. 

As for this famous mariner, little is known of his 
later life save that he was once imprisoned for debt, 
but this was no disgrace in those times and I am sure 
tliat he was soon liberated. He died September 20th, 
1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor is 
there any record of his marriage. At any rate he has 
left the reputation of a brave and valiant seaman who 
was beloved by his men, feared by his enemies, and 
appreciated by his contemporaries. 

" Britannia's glory first from ships arose ; 
To shipping still her power and wealth she owes. 
Let each experienced Briton then impart, 
His naval skill to perfect naval art." 



BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD 

Their silvered swords are red with rust, 

Their plumed heads are bowed ; 

Their haughty banner, trailed in dust. 

Is now their martial shroud. 

And plenteous funeral tears have washed 

The red stains from each brow. 

And the proud forms, by battle gashed. 

Are free from anguish now. 

Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone 

In deathless song shall tell. 

When many a vanished age hath flown, 

The story how ye fell : 

Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, 

Nor Time's remorseless gloom, 

Shall dim one ray of glory's light 

That gilds your deathless tomb. 




From " The Army and Navy oi the United States." 

AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PiRIZE. 



JOHN PAUL JONES 
THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 

(1747 -1792) 



" Every generation has its own war. To forget the disagree- 
able is a characteristic of the human mind." — The Philosopher. 



JOHN PAUL JONES 

THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN 

NAVY 

(1747 -1792) 

" Why ! Shiver my bones ! It's John Paul Jones ! 
Johnny the Pirate ! Johnny should swing ! 
Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y' know, 
Johnny who's tryin' to fight our good King. 
Shiver my Timbers ! We'll catch the old fox ! 
Clew up those top-sails! Ware o' th' shoals! 
Fire 'cross his bozv-lincs! Steer for th' rocks! 
Ease aivay on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls! 

Oh ! Johnny, my Johnny, you're slick as can be, 
But, Johnny, My John, you'll be nipped present-ly." 

— Song of the English Privateers. — 1794. 

A FRENCH frig-ate lay in the silvery water off 
Norfolk, Virginia, and, as she swung quietly 
upon her anchor chains, a small sloop came 
bobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern, 
where sat a man of about twenty-eight years ; of 
medium stature, strongly built and swarthy. He was 
dressed in the gra}^ clothing of a Virginian planter. 

" Hallo," he shouted in very good French. " May 
I come aboard ? " 

" Ccrtainement! Certainement! " cried a French 
officer, as he neared the rail. " Welcome, Monsieur 
Jones!" 

241 



242 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

And, as the Virginian fanner scrambled upon the 
deck, he was greeted most effusively by a handsome 
nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph, Duke de 
Chartres; known as "the Sailor Prince of France." 
The Virginian was John Paul Jones, of " White- 
haven " upon the river Rappahannock. 

" I bring you delicacies of the season from my gar- 
den," said the planter, smiling. " Some for you, and 
some for the commander — the CommodcM-e de Ker- 
saint. I trust that you w'ill accept them, with my 
kindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give 
me leave to inspect your vessel and obtain informa- 
tion in regard to her plan, construction of the hull, 
arrangement of the batteries, her spars, her rig and 
other technical particulars. For, know you. Gentle- 
men, that war has just commenced between Great 
Britain and her Colonies and the newly-formed Ma- 
rine Department of the Government will require a 
knowledge of ships and their construction. Partly 
for this I have visited you." 

Kersaint's face grew sober. 

" Monsieur Jones," said he, " I have just heard the 
news from Lexington and I am the senior officer upon 
this coast. France is at peace with England. The 
situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse to 
allow you to sketch any plans of my vessel." 

But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the 
matter in a different light. 

" You shall have all the assistance from me that 
you wish," he cried. " T do not fear the displeasure 
of Ensfland." 



JOHN PAUL JONES 243 

So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the 
most complete data of the new frigate, even to copies 
of deck plans and sail spread, which he caused his 
carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guest 
of the Frenchman for two or three days. 

" And now you will visit my plantation," said he, 
when the time came for him to leave. " Is it not so? 
For there I can repay some of the kindnesses which 
you have shown me." 

" That we cannot do," replied the French com- 
mander. " It would be most impolitic for us to ac- 
cept entertainment ashore from persons known to be 
hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceed- 
ingly, for your kind offer." 

So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plan- 
tation, and the French war-ship sailed for Corunna, 
Spain, after firing one gim as a salute to the new- 
born nation. 

The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish 
of Kirkbean, the youthful farmer had emigrated to 
America, where his brother owned the large planta- 
tion upon which he now resided. He found his kins- 
man dying of what was then called lung fever — in 
our time pneumonia — and, as he willed him his Vir- 
ginian possessions, Jones was soon residing upon 
" 3,000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the 
Rappahannock; 1,000 acres cleared and under plough, 
or grass ; with 2,000 acres of strong, first-growth 
timber." He had a grist-mill ; a mansion ; overseer's 
houses ; negro quarters ; stables : tobacco houses ; 
threshing floors ; thirty negroes of all ages ; twenty 



244 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

horses and colts; eighty neat cattle and calves; and 
many sheep and swine. Thus lived the future sea- 
captain; in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the out- 
break of the American Revolution. 

John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age 
of twelve. As a master's apprentice upon the stout 
brig Friendship, he had sailed from Scotland to the 
North American Colonies, the West Indies, and back 
again. He had kept to his seaman's life, and — so 
improved in knowledge of his profession — that he 
became second mate ; then first mate ; then Captain. 
At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of about 
one thousand guineas ($5,000) in gold, — then equal, 
in purchasing power, to three times this sum. Be- 
sides this he had studied French and Spanish assidu- 
ously, so that he could speak the first like a native. 
It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner. 
And he had plenty of nerve, as the following incident 
bears full witness : 

Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was re- 
duced, by fever, to five or six hands. One of them 
was a huge mulatto named Munro — or " Mungo " — 
Maxwell. They became mutinous, and, as Captain 
Jones was the only officer who could keep the deck, 
it was found necessary to subdue the refractory sea- 
man. 

"Will you obey my orders?" cried Jones, picking 
up a belaying pin. 

" You go sit down," cried Maxwell. " I no like 
you. Pish! I could kill you with one crack." 

John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking 



JOHN PAUL JONES 245 

towards the big black, he struck him just one blow 
with his pin. " Mungo " dropped to the deck and lay 
there. He never rose again. 

Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered 
to the authorities, and asked for a trial. It was given 
him. 

" Captain Paul," asked the Judge, " are you, in 
conscience, satisfied that you used no more force than 
was necessary to preserve discipline on your ship? " 

" May it please the most Honorable Court, Sir," 
answered the doughty seamen, " it became imperative 
to strike the mutinous sailor, Maxwell. Whenever 
it becomes necessary for a commanding officer to hit 
a seaman, it is also necessary to strike with a weapon. 
I may say that the necessity to strike carries with it 
the necessity to kill, or to completely disable the mu- 
tineer. I had two brace of loaded pistols in my belt, 
and could easily have shot him. I struck with a 
belaying pin in preference, because I hoped that I 
might subdue him without killing him. But the re- 
sult proved otherwise. I trust that the Honorable 
Court and the jury will take due account of the fact 
that, though amply provided with pistols throwing 
ounce balls, necessarily fatal weapons; I used a be- 
laying pin, which, though dangerous, is not neces- 
sarily a fatal weapon." 

The Judge smiled and Captain Paul was acquitted. 

The famous Lord Nelson once said : " A naval 
officer, unlike a military commander, can have no 
fixed plans. He must always be ready for the chance. 
It may come to-morrow, or next week, or next year. 



246 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

or never; but he must be ahvays ready!" Nunquam 
non Paratus. (Never unprepared.) 

Paul Jones kept a copy of this maxim in his head. 
He was always in training; always on the qui vive; 
always prepared. And — because he was always pre- 
pared — he accomplished what would seem to be the 
impossible. 

Shortly placed in command of a sloop-of-war, the 
Alfred (one of the four vessels which constituted the 
American Navy), Lieutenant Jones assisted in an 
expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence 
Island, in the Bahamas, which was a complete and 
absolute failure. On the way home, and when pass- 
ing the end of Long Island, his boat was chased by 
the twenty-gun sloop-of-war Glasgozv. The long shot 
kicked up a lot of spray around the fleet American 
vessel, but it was of no use. Jones got away and 
sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails 
full of holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But 
he was created a Captain ; placed in command of the 
Providence — sloop-of-war, fourteen guns and one 
hundred and seven men — and soon harried the seas 
in search of fighting and adventure. With him were 
two faithful negro boys — Cato and Scipio — who 
followed him through the many vicissitudes of the 
Revolutionary War. 

The seas traversed by the Providence were full of 
English cruisers — superior in size to the saucy 
American — but inferior in alertness and resources of 
her commander and her crew. She captured sixteen 
vessels — of which eight were sent to port and eight 



JOHN PAUL JONES 247 

were destroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by 
British frigates, and, on one of these occasions, nar- 
rowly escaped capture. 

As the httle sloop was running into one of the 
many harbors of the coast, a fast-sailing frigate bore 
down upon her from the starboard quarter. 

Whang! 

Her bow-guns spoke and said " Heave to! " 

But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and 
kept on upon his course. 

" She's got me," said he. " But, as the breeze is 
fresh I may run away. Stand ready, Boys, and let 
go your tackle immediate, when I give the command ! " 

The helm was now put hard-up and the Providence 
crept into the wind. Closer and closer came the brig 
— now her bow-guns sputtered — and a shot rico- 
chetted near the lean prow of the Providence. But 
the sloop kept on. 

Suddenly — just as the brig drew alongside — Paul 
Jones swung his rudder over, wore around in the 
wind, and ran dead to leeward. 

" Watch her sniffle ! " cried the gallant Captain, as 
the brig chug-chugged on the dancing waves, and, 
endeavoring to box short about, came up into the 
wind. But fortune favored the American skipper. 
Just then a squall struck the Englishman ; she lost 
steering way; and hung upon the waves like a huge 
rubber ball, while her Captain said things that cannot 
be printed. 

When in this condition, Jones ran his boat wnthin 
half gun-shot, gave her a dose of iron from one of 



248 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

his stern-guns, and — before the frigate could get 
squared away — was pounding off before the wind, 
which was the sloop's best point of sailing. 

" Well," said the crafty John Paul, his face 
wreathed in smiles. "If the frigate had simply fol- 
lowed my manoeuver of wearing around under easy 
helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could 
not have distanced her much in the alteration of the 
course, and she must have come off the wind very 
nearly with me, and before I could get out of range. 

" I do not take to myself too great credit for get- 
ting away. I did the best that I could, but there was 
more luck than sense to it. A good or bad puff of 
wind foils all kinds of skill one way or th^e other — ■ 
and this time when I saw the little squall cat's-pawing 
to windward — I thought that I would ware ship and 
see if the Britisher wouldn't get taken aback. The 
old saying that ' Discretion is the better part of valor ' 
may, I think, be changed to ' Impudence is — or 
may be, sometimes — the better part of discretion.' " 

Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when 
he arrived in port. One was a letter from Thomas 
Jefferson, enclosing his commission as Captain in the 
Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other — 
an epistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him, 
that, during the month of July previous, his planta- 
tion had been utterly ravaged by an expedition of 
British and Tories (Virginians who sided with Eng- 
land in the war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings 
had all been burned ; his wharf demolished ; his live- 
stock killed; and every one of his able-bodied slaves 



JOHN PAUL JONES 249 

of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica to be 
sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing 
crops ; cut down his fruit trees ; in short, nothing was 
left of his once prosperous and valuable plantation 
but the bare ground. 

" This is part of the fortunes of war," said Jones. 
" I accept the extreme animosity displayed by Lord 
Dunmore as a compliment to the sincerity of my at- 
tachment to the cause of liberty." 

Bold words, well spoken by a bold man ! 

" But," continued the able sailor, " I most sadly 
deplore the fate of my poor negroes. The plantation 
was to them a home, not a place of bondage. Their 
existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not 
slavery. Now they are torn away and carried off 
to die under the pestilence and lash of Jamaica cane- 
fields ; and the price of their poor bodies will swell 
the pockets of English slave-traders. For this cruelty 
to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime, 
somehow, to find an opportunity to exact a reckon- 
ing." 

Again bold sentiments, — and the reckoning, too, 
was forthcoming. 

" I have no fortune left but my sword, and no 
prospect except that of getting alongside of the en- 
emy," wrote the impoverished sea-captain to a Mr. 
Hewes, 

This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfil- 
ment. 

Ordered to take command of the Alfred, Captain 
Jones made a short cruise eastward, in 1776, accom- 



250 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

panied by the staunch Httle Providence. The journey 
lasted only thirty-three days, but, during that time, 
seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the 
two American vessels. 

" Aha ! " cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his 
hands. " This looks more propitious for our cause. 
We have taken the Mellish and the Biddeford. Let 
us break into them and see how much of the King's 
treasure has been secured." 

And it was indeed good treasure ! 

The Mellish was found to contain ten thousand 
complete uniforms, including cloaks, boots, socks and 
woollen shirts, for the winter supply of General 
Howe's army ; seven thousand pairs of blankets ; one 
thousand four hundred tents ; six hundred saddles and 
complete cavalry equipments ; one million seven hun- 
dred thousand rounds of fixed ammunition (musket 
cartridges) ; a large quantity of medical stores; forty 
cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers 
who were recruits sent out to join the various British 
regiments then serving in the Colonies. 

The larger prize — the Biddeford — carried one 
thousand seven hundred fur overcoats for the use of 
the Canadian troops; eleven thousand pairs of blan- 
kets, intended partly for the British troops in Canada, 
and partly for the Indians then in British pay along 
the northern frontier; one thousand small-bore guns 
of the type then known as the " Indian-trade smooth- 
bore," with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flint in 
proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight 
light six-pounder field guns and complete harness and 



JOHN PAUL JONES 251 

other equipage for the two four-gun batteries of horse- 
artillery. Also some wines and table supplies for Sir 
Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duelling 
pistols for a British officer then serving in Canada. 

" These I will appropriate as mine own portion," 
cried Captain Jones. " And also a share of the wines, 
for I must have something to drink the health of mine 
enemy in." And — so saying — he chuckled glee- 
fully. It had been a rich haul. 

But the Captain was not happy. His pet project 
was to cruise in European waters, and he wanted to 
get near the British coast with a ship — or better — 
a squadron of some force. 

" Cruises along the American coast," said he, " will 
annoy the enemy and result in capture of small ships 
and consorts from time to time. But who — forsooth 
— will hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing 
to our prestige as a new nation if we win victories 
upon this side of the ocean." 

All who heard him were much impressed by the 
vehement earnestness of his arguments. 

" You have had so much success, Mr. Jones," said 
they, " that we feel you will have still greater good 
fortune in future years." 

And Jones said to himself: "Oh, if I only could 
get the chance ! " 

It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the 
Continental Congress passed the following resolu- 
tion: 

" Resolved: That Captain John Paul Jones be ap- 
pointed to command the ship Ranger" (a brand-new 



252 FAMOUS PRIYATEERSMEN 

sloop-of-war which had just been launched at Ports- 
mouth, N. H.). 

This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty 
long six-pounders and was planned expressly for 
speed. She was one hundred and sixteen feet long, 
twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was 
covered with copper: the first American ship to be 
thus protected. Captain Jones put fourteen long nine- 
pounders in her and only four six-pounders, but even 
then she was top-heavy. 

In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to 
carry full sail, if clearing to windward, close-hauled 
in squally weather; when running free — before the 
wind — she could course through the water like a 
jack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a per- 
fect beauty, and, as she was rather low in the water 
for her length, and her masts raked two or three 
degrees more than any other ship of the day, she 
was — on the whole — the sauciest craft afloat. Jones 
was delighted. 

" I have the best crew I have ever seen," said he. 
" I believe it is the best in the world. They are nearly 
all native Americans, and the proportion of able sea- 
men to the total is much beyond the average. I'm 
going to make one or two short runs off the coast — 
a day or two at a time — to shake down the sails and 
find the best trim of the ship. Then away to the 
shores of England and France ! " 

He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across 
the blue Atlantic. On October the i8th, 1777, a 
courier raced frantically into Portsmouth, crying, 



JOHN PAUL JONES 253 

" Burgoyne has surrendered ! Burgoyne has sur- 
rendered! " And Jones' impatience to be off increased 
ten-fold. 

There were no details of the American victory, for 
the courier had reached the sleepy New England town 
from the field of Stillwater, in about thirty hours, and 
it was one hundred and forty-seven miles — as the 
crow flies — or, about one hundred and seventy-five 
by the shortest road. He had stopped only long- 
enough to saddle a fresh horse and shift his saddle, 
eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinking 
of rest until he had shouted his tidings for three 
full days. The patriot country was wild with en- 
thusiasm. 

" I will spread the news in France in thirty days," 
said Jones, when his dispatches were placed in his 
hands, about midnight of October the thirty-first. 
And, running by the whirling eddies of '' Pull-and-be- 
damned " Point, he soon had the Ranger clear of the 
low-lying Isle of Shoals : the sea cross and choppy, 
but the good ship bowling along before a fresh gale 
of wind. 

" I had sailed with many Captains," writes Elijah 
Elall, second Lieutenant of the staunch, little vessel, 
" but I never had seen a ship crowded as Captain 
Jones drove the Ranger. The wind held northeasterly 
and fresh 'til we cleared Sable Island and began to 
draw on to the Banks. Then it came northeast and 
east-northeast with many snow squalls, and thick of 
nights." 

Imagine the situation of the Ranger's crew, with 



254 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

a top-heavy, cranky ship under their feet, and a 
Commander who day and night insisted on every 
rag she could stagger under, without laying clear 
down ! 

As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than 
once, and on one occasion righted only by letting-tiy 
her sheets cut with hatchets. During all this trying 
work Captain Jones was his own navigating officer, 
keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of the 
twenty- four; often serving extra grog to the men 
with his own hands ; and, by his example, silencing 
all disposition to grumble. In the worst of it, the 
watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the men 
would be eight hours on to four off; but no one com- 
plained. It speaks well alike for commander and crew 
that not a man was punished or even severely repri- 
manded during the terrific voyage. 

But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actu- 
ally did land at Nantes — upon the coast of France — 
early in the morning of December second, 1777, thirty- 
two days out from Portsmouth. His crew were jubi- 
lant, and sang a song which ran : 

" So now we had him hard and fast, 
Burgoyne laid down his arms at last, 
And that is why we brave the blast. 
To carry the news to London ! 
Heigh-ho ! Carry the News ! 
Go ! Go ! Carry the News ! 
Tell old King George that he's undone! 
He's licked by the Yankee squirrel gun. 
Go! 

Go! 
Carry the news to London ! " 



JOHN PAUL JONES 255 

And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris, 
placing the dispatches in the hands of Dr. Frankhn 
early upon the fifth day of December, — travelling 
two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. He 
returned to his ship about the middle of the month, 
to find that several of the crew were mutinous. 

" See here. Captain," said one — a seaman from 
Portsmouth, New Hampshire — " Me and my pals 
enlisted at home after readin' a hand-bill which said 
that we wuz to get $40.00 apiece extra, for this cruise. 
Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg'la- 
tions of Congress say that we are to only get th' reg'- 
lar salary allotted by those old pals, who make our 
laws. We came with you thinkin' that we wuz ter 
git this money, and, by grmi, we intend to git it! " 

" Calm yourself, my good fellow," said Jones sooth- 
ingly. " If the hand-bill said that you were to receive 
$40.00 you shall have it. You shall get this sum even 
if I have to pay it myself." 

And this he did. 

" I would not deceive any man who has entered 
or may enter, to serve in my command," remarked 
John Paul Jones. " I consider myself as being under 
a personal obligation to these brave men, who have 
cheerfully enlisted to serve with me, and I accept their 
act as a proof of their good opinion of me, which I 
value so highly, that I cannot permit it to be dampened 
in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure 
to perform engagements. I wish all my men to be 
happy and contented. The conditions of the hand- 
bills will be strictly complied with." 



256 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty- 
seven guineas (about $800.00) out of his own pocket, 
in making good the terms of the hand-bill. Is it any 
wonder that the gallant seaman was popular with his 
followers ? 

But the Ranger lay at Brest — eager for action — 
her light sails furled ; her spars shining with new 
varnish; her polished guns winking in the rays of 
the sun. 

"Come, my Hearties!" cried Captain Jones on 
April the loth, " we'll hie us out to the west coast 
of Ireland and see if our new ship cannot make a good 
name for herself." 

Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel. 
Her bow was turned toward the ocean — and — with 
the new flag of the infant republic fluttering from 
her masts, the Ranger went forth for battle, for plun- 
der, and for glory. She was to get a little of each. 

Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning 
from fishermen decoyed on board, that there was a 
large amount of shipping in the harbor of White- 
haven, with no warship of superior force in the neigh- 
borhood to protect it, the bold American skipper re- 
solved to make a dash into this quiet cove, with a 
view of destroying the ships there in port. The Brit- 
ish authorities had no suspicion of his presence in the 
Irish Sea. 

As the Ranger drew near to Whitehaven, the wind 
blew such a gale from the southwest, that it was im- 
possible to land a boat. 

" We must hold off until the breeze slackens ! " 



JOHN PAUL JONES 257 

cried bold Captain Jones. " This cannot last forever, 
and our opportunity will soon be here." 

Sure enough — the wind died out about midnight 
of April 22nd — and the Ranger beat up towards the 
town. When about five hundred yards from the 
shore, the vessel was hove to — two boats were low- 
ered — and twenty-nine seamen, with third Lieuten- 
ant Wallingford, Midshipmen Arthur Green and 
Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in com- 
mand they hastened toward the coast. 

The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay 
at the mouth of the harbor, but, as the seamen scram- 
bled ashore, they were precipitately abandoned by the 
garrison of " coast-guards." Captain Jones, Midship- 
man Green, and six men rushed shouting upon one 
of these, capturing it without an effort; the other was 
taken by Lieutenant Wallingford and eight sailors, — 
while four were left behind as a boat-guard. A few 
pistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the 
stout sea-dogs reached the tidal basin, where the ship- 
ping lay, the townsfolk were thoroughly aroused. 
Burning cotton was thrown on board of the ships 
lying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full 
daylight, and the insignificance of Jones' force became 
evident to the townsfolk, who were rallying from all 
directions. 

" Retreat to the ships," shouted the Yankee Cap- 
tain, " there is no time to lose ! " 

The landing party — small as it was — had become 
separated into two groups ; one commanded by Jones, 
the other by Wallingford. Thinking that Walling- 



258 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

ford's party was, for the moment, more seriously men- 
aced than his own, Jones attacked and dispersed — 
with his dozen men — a force of about one hundred 
of the local militia who were endeavoring to retake 
the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked 
by the Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards 
had joined and were making a vigorous assault upon 
Wallingford. But shots flew thick and fast from the 
muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones — 
as they retreated to their own boats. The whole land- 
ing party — with the exception of one man — finally 
leaped safely into the boat, and were on board the 
Ranger before the sun was an hour over the horizon. 

Jones was delighted. 

" The actual results of this affair," said he, " are 
of little moment, as we destroyed but one ship. The 
moral effect — however — is very great, as it has 
taught the English that the fancied security of their 
coasts is a Myth." 

In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul, 
made the Government take expensive measures for 
the defense of numerous ports hitherto relying for 
protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipo- 
tence of the navy. It also doubled the rates of marine 
insurance; which was the most grievous damage of 
all. 

" Now to attack a castle ! " cried Jones, " and bag 
an Earl, too, if he is around ! " 

The Ranger was headed for Solway Firth — not 
more than three hours' sail away — where, upon St. 
Mary's Isle, was the castle of the Earl of Selkirk. 



JOHN PAUL JONES 259 

" If we can catch the noble owner of this keep," 
said John Paul, " we will hold him as hostage for the 
better treatment of American prisoners in Eng- 
land." 

As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this 
particular time, and, although the wild sea-dogs of 
the Ranger carried off several pieces of silverware 
from the castle, this was all that was captured. Lucky- 
Earl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John 
Paul, he would have been treated with the greatest 
consideration, for the Captain of the Ranger was the 
most chivalrous of conquerors. 

The Ranger stood across the Irish Channel and next 
day ran into some fisher boats. 

"Ah! Ha!" laughed one of the sons of Ireland. 
" The Drake — the guard-ship at Carrickfergus — is 
after you, and she's a twenty-gun sloop-of-war." 

John Paul smiled. 

" To lessen trouble," said he, " I'll heave-to off the 
mouth of Belfast Lough and wait for her to work out. 
This will save her the pains of coming after me." 

So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the 
Drake to sail on. Her white sails could be seen more 
clearly as she neared the adventurous American. A 
boat was sent out to reconnoitre — but — as it ap- 
proached, it was surrounded by tenders from the 
Ranger; a midshipman and five men in her, were 
made prisoners. Tide and wind were both against 
the Drake; she came on slowly; and, at an hour 
before sundown, was just within hail. The sea was 
fairly smooth, the wind southerly and very light. 



260 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" What ship is that ? " sounded from the deck of 
the Drake. 

" The American Continental ship Ranger," rang 
the clear reply. " Lay on ! We are waiting for 
you ! " 

Both ships bore away before the wind and neared 
each other to within striking distance. Boom! a 
broadside roared from the side of the Drake, and the 
fight had begun. 

Crash! Crash! Muskets spoke from the rigging of 
the Ranger, where several seamen had climbed in the 
endeavor to pick off the gunners on the deck of the 
British war-ship. There were one hundred and fifty- 
seven men upon the Drake ; Paul Jones had one hun- 
dred and twenty-six. The Drake's battery was six- 
teen nine-pounders and four sixes. Thus — you see 
— the advantage was clearly with the Britishers. 

Both boats swung along under full canvas, pound- 
ing away at each other like prize-fighters. Spars were 
shattered ; sails ripped ; masts splintered in the hail 
of iron. And — as the fight progressed — it could 
be plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon 
the Drake was infinitely less accurate than that of the 
Americans. 

" Every shot of our men told," said Jones — not 
long afterwards. " They gave the Drake three broad- 
sides for two, right along, at that. The behavior of 
my crew in this engagement more than justifies the 
representations I have often made, of what American 
sailors would do, if given a chance at the enemy in 
his own waters. We have seen that they fight with 




trora ■ I'tie Army and Navy of the United Stales.' 

" BEGAN TO HULL THE ' DRAKE ' BELOW THE WATER-LINE/ 



JOHN PAUL JONES 261 

courage on our own coast — but fought here, ahnost 
in hail of the enemy's shore." 

As the two ships were going off the wind, which 
was light, they both rolled considerably, and together ; 
that is, when the Ranger went down to port, the 
Drake came up to starboard. The gunners upon the 
quarter-deck of the Range?' timed their guns, so that 
they were fired as their muzzles went down and the 
enemy's side arose. By this practice they began to 
hull the Drake below the water-line. 

" Sink the English ! Sink the English ! " cried the 
powder-blackened fighters. 

But Captain Jones thought differently. 

"Don't sink her!" he yelled to gunner Starbuck, 
above the din of battle. " I want to take her alive, 
instead of destroying her; for it will be much more 
to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prize into 
a French port." 

"All right, Cap'n!" shouted his men. "We'll 
cripple her aloft! " 

They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific 
were their broadsides, that the fore and main topsail- 
yards came tumbling across the starboard quarter, in 
a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging. 

" Rake her! Rake her ! " shouted Jones to his men. 

The Ranger luffed and crossed the stern of the 
Drake with the purpose of spanking a full broadside 
down her decks. The British boat was badly crippled 
and had lost steering way. 

But, before the well-aimed guns belched another 
destructive volley into the shattered Englishman, a 



262 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

white flag went aloft, and a voice came : " Hold your 
fire. We surrender!" The Drake was a prisoner- 
of-war. 

Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and 
thus he had proved that the British were not invinci- 
ble, and could be defeated, upon the sea, by their own 
cousins, as readily as upon the land. 

When the Ranger lay in the harbor of Brest, a few 
days later, with the Drake alongside, boats crowded 
about in order to view the vessel which had captured 
another, — larger than herself. And, as the Ranger 
had taken three merchant ships on the way to the 
coast of France, the black eyes of the natives shone 
with beady lustre as they gazed upon the graceful hull 
of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, New 
Hampshire. 

" See Monsieur Jones," said they, as they nudged 
each other. " Voila ! Here is a man who is better 
than our own sailors. Look at this American sea- 
devil ! " 

And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with 
pride. 

Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most 
unhappy during the next few months, for the Ranger 
was ordered back to America — under his Lieutenant 
Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected 
to remain and fight with him, when he should get an- 
other command, — among them a little Narragansett 
Indian called Antony Jeremiah. 

" Me like to see big gun shoot," said he. " Me 
like to walk on deck of enemy's big boat when you 



JOHN PAUL JONES 203 

take it ! Byme-by we take bigger ship than Drake 
and kill heap more enemy ! Ugh ! Ugh ! " 

At this John Paul laughed. 

" Antony Jeremiah," said he, " you shall witness 
one big fight if you stay with John Paul. You wait 
and see! " 

And what John Paul had said soon came to pass. 

" The French," writes the doughty warrior, " have 
little conception of an expedition such as I propose; 
to harry the coast and destroy the commerce of the 
enemy. Their idea is to leave all of that to privateers, 
of which I have already been offered a dozen com- 
mands. Some of the ships they fit out as privateers 
are really respectable frigates in size, and I have seen 
one, called the Monsieur, that mounts thirty-eight or 
forty guns. But I do not wish to engage in priva- 
teering. My object is not that of private gain, but to 
serve the public in a way that may reflect credit on 
our infant navy and give prestige to our country over 
the sea." 

Noble sentiments — nobly expressed ! 

In spite of the gloomy outlook he at last secured 
a vessel from the King himself, called the Duras, 
which he re-christened " Le Bon Homme Richard " — 
" The Good Richard " — the name assumed by Dr. 
Benjamin Franklin when writing his famous " Al- 
manack," except that he called him " Poor Richard." 
This was a well-merited compliment to the great and 
good man, who was then Commissioner from the 
United States to France, and a firm friend to the 
ardent John Paul. The vessel had forty guns, " and," 



264 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

writes the Minister of Marine, " as you may find too 
much difficulty in enhsting a sul'iicient number of 
Americans, the King permits you to levy French vol- 
unteers, until you obtain a full crew." 

John Paul hastened to get her ready for a cruise. 
" I mounted twenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the 
gun-deck," he says, " put eight of the long nines on 
the quarter-deck, and discarded the six-pounders of 
her old battery. This gave her a battery of forty-two 
guns, throwing two hundred and fifty-eight pounds of 
metal in a single broadside. She was the fair equiva- 
lent of a thirty-six gun frigate." 

From February to June she was worked over; 
refitted; resparred. On June 19th, 1779, the gal- 
lant John Paul Jones swung out into the English 
Channel; he, himself, in command of the Good Rich- 
ard, which carried a crew of three hundred and 
seventy-five, not more than fifty of whom were Ameri- 
cans. Four other vessels w-ere with him : the Alli- 
ance, a. thirty-two gun frigate; the Pallas, a twenty- 
eight gun frigate; the Vengeance, a tw-elve gun brig; 
and the Cerf, a cutter. 

On the second day out the Alliance fouled the Rich- 
ard, causing so much damage to both, that the squad- 
ron was compelled to return to port for repairs, which 
— with other transactions — consumed six weeks. 
But the accident was a lucky one, for numerous Amer- 
ican sailors, who were in English prisons, were shortly 
exchanged with English seamen in French dungeons; 
and thus Paul Jones was able to man the Good Rich- 
ard with one hundred and fourteen native Americans, 



JOHN PAUL JONES 2G5 

who were anxious to have a crack at those who had 
captured them but a short time before. 

Finally, with refitted ships and reorganized crews, 
Paul Jones was ready to sail from the roadstead of 
Isle de Groaix, in the early part of August, 1779, 
bound upon his cruise around the British Islands. 
There were four ships in this squadron : the Good 
Richard; the Alliance, under Pierre Landais (a de- 
praved and dishonest Frenchman) ; the Pallas, under 
Cottineau (an honest Frenchman) ; and the l^cn- 
geancc, a sloop-of-war. The prevailing winds 
were light and baffling, so the squadron moved 
slowly. 

War had been declared between France and Fng- 
land, and thus the English Channel was thronged with 
privateers from both countries. The Richard and a 
French privateer, in company, recaptured a large ship 
belonging to Holland, but bound from Barcelona to 
Dunkirk, France, which had been taken scome days 
before by an English vessel off Cape Ortegal and 
ordered into Falmouth, England. England and Hol- 
land were still at peace, at this time, but the English 
claimed the right to intercept and send into their own 
port for examination, all neutral vessels bound to 
French ports, as England and France were then at 
war. Commodore Jones took the English prize-crew 
out of the Dutch ship, as prisoners of war, and then 
ordered the ship into I'Orient in charge of her own 
crew, but under the command of one of his midship- 
men, until she could come under the protection of a 
French port. 



266 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Things are going well with us ! " cried Captain 
Jones, rubbing his hands gleefully. 

He soon felt much happier. For, on the morning 
of August 23rd, when in the vicinity of Cape Clear, 
the Richard sent three boats, and afterwards a fourth, 
to take a brig that was becalmed in the northwest 
quarter — just out of gun-shot. It proved to be the 
Fortune, of Bristol, bound from Newfoundland 
for her home-port with whale-oil, salt fish, and 
barrel staves. Manned by a prize-crew of two 
warrant officers and six men, she was sent to 
Nantes. 

All w^ere happy. All were looking forward to a 
good fight. It was to come to them. 

The little fleet of war-dogs sailed northward, and, 
on September ist, about ten o'clock in the morning, 
the northwest promontory of Scotland was sighted. 
At the same instant, two large ships bore in sight on 
the same quarter, and another vessel appeared to wind- 
ward. 

" Bear up! Bear up! " cried Jones. 

The Richard held over toward the first two ships 
until he saw that it was the Alliance and a prize she 
had taken about daylight, — a vessel bound for Ja- 
maica, from London. 

" Now chase the other fellow ! " he cried, turning 
the wheel with his own hands, and soon the Good 
Richard was bounding over the waves in hard pur- 
suit of the second sail. Slowly but surely she was 
overhauled. Heavily armed, she did not surrender 
until after the exchange of several shots, which the 



JOHN PAUL JONES 267 

Richard pumped into her, after running up close 
enough to show her broadside. 

A boat soon carried a number of seamen to take 
possession of her, and she proved to be the British 
privateer, the Union, mounting twenty-two six-pound- 
ers, and bound northward from London to Quebec, 
in Canada, laden with a cargo of naval and military 
stores for the British troops and flotillas on the Lakes. 
The Union also carried a valuable mail, including dis- 
patches for Sir William Howe, in New York, and 
Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. " These were lost," 
writes John Paul to good Doctor Franklin, at Paris, 
for the Alliance imprudently showed Anerican colors, 
though English colors were still flying on the Bon 
Homme Richard; " the enemy thereby being induced 
to throw his papers of importance overboard before 
we could take possession of him." The prizes were 
manned from the Alliance and sent (by Landais) into 
the seaport of Bergen, in Norway. 

The squadron now beat dov\^ the east coast of 
Scotland, and, after capturing five or six small prizes, 
rounded-to off the Firth of Forth. 

" I intend to attack the port of Leith! " cried Jones. 
" as I understand that it is defended only by a small 
guard-ship of twenty-two guns, and an old fortification 
(old Leith Fort) garrisoned by a detachment of 
Militia." 

The wind was adverse, blowing off shore, with 
frequent heavy squalls, but about noon of the 17th 
of September, the Richard and the Pallas beat up 
within gun-shot of Leith Fort and were lowering 



268 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

away their tenders in order to land, when a heavy 
Northwest gale sprang up, compelling them to hoist 
their boats, and put to sea. The gale lasted about 
twenty-four hours, but, on the morning of the 19th, 
the wind took another turn, the sea grew calm, and 
Jones proposed to renew the attack upon Leith. The 
Commander of the Pallas made strong objection to 
this. " I do not believe that we should stay here," 
cried he. " If we persist in the attempt to remain 
on this station three days longer, we shall have a 
squadron of heavy frigates, if not a ship of line, to 
deal with. Convinced of this, I offer it as my judg- 
ment that we had better work along the shore to-day 
and to-morrow, as far as Spurn Head, and then, if 
we do not fall in with the Bailie merchant fleet, stand 
off the coast and make the best of our way to Dun- 
kirk." 

Commodore Jones spent a few moments in reflec- 
tion. " You are probably right, Cottineau," said he. 
" I only wish that another man like you were in com- 
mand of the Alliance. However, we cannot help 
what is and must make the best of it. Go aboard your 
ship and make sail to the south-southwest. Speak the 
Vengeance as you run down, and tell Ricot — her 
commander — to rendezvous off Spurn Head. I will 
bring up the rear with this ship. We may fall in 
with the Baltic fleet between here and Scarboro', which 
is usually their first English port of destination at this 
time of the year. Should you happen to sight the 
Alliance, inform Captain Landais of our destination, 
but do not communicate it to him as an order, be- 



JOim PAUL JONES 2G9 

cause that would be likely to expose you only to 
insult." 

The two ships turned South, and the next three 
days were without events of importance. At length 
ihey neared the harbor of Scarboro', and, as they hov- 
ered about twelve miles off the land, they saw some 
vessels making for the shore, and protecting a fleet 
of merchantmen. 

" They're a heavy man-of-war — either a fifty-gun 
frigate, or a fifty- four — with a large ship-of-war in 
company," cried one of his Lieutenants, who had been 
watching them through a glass. " The Captain of 
the larger one has cleverly manoeuvered to protect his 
merchant ship." 

Commodore Jones seemed to be much pleased. 

" At last we'll have a little fight," cried he. " Bear 
hard for the land, and get between tiie larger vessel 
and the shore ! " 

Captain Cottineau was signalled to and requested to 
go after the sloop-of-war. About sundown the Rich- 
ard succeeded in weathering the large frigate and 
manoeuvered between her and the land. 

The ships neared each other very gradually, for the 
breeze was slight. They were on opposite tacks and 
Commodore Jones readily made out the force and rate 
of his antagonist. By the light of the dying day — for 
it was about seven p. m. — he saw that she was a 
new forty- four ; a perfect beauty. It was the Scrapis 
— Captain Richard Pearson commanding — but six 
months off the stocks and on her first cruise as a 
convoy to the Baltic fleet of merchantmen : consisting 



270 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

of about forty vessels laden with timber and other 
naval stores for the use of the British dockyards. 
Jones had hoped to have an opportunity to attack this 
flotilla, but his plans had been frustrated by the vig- 
ilance and skill of the commander of the men-of-war 
in convoy. 

Even now Landais might have got among the mer- 
chantmen in the fast-sailing Alliance, while Jones and 
Cottineau occupied the attention of the two men-of- 
war; but the French officer did not have sufficient 
courage to tackle them, and kept well beyond striking 
distance. 

The Captain of the Sera pis stood upon the deck, 
intently gazing at the oncoming vessel. 

" Gad Zooks ! " he uttered. " From the size of her 
spars and her height out of water I take her to be 
a French fifty of the time of the last war. It's too 
dark for me to see whether she has any lower ports 
or not." He raised his night glasses to his eyes, and, 
in the light of the full moon which was now flooding 
the sea with a silvery haze, saw that his opponent was 
intent upon a fight. 

" It is probably Paul Jones," said he. lowering the 
glasses. "If so — there's tight work ahead. What 
ship is that? " he cried out in loud tones. 

No answer came from the dark hull of the Good 
Richard, but, as she swung nearer upon the rolling 
waves, suddenly a flash, a roar, and a sheet of flame 
belched from her side. The battle was on ! 

It was a struggle which has been talked of for 
years. It was a battle about which the world never 



JOHN PAUL JONES 271 

seems to tire of reading. It was the battle which has 
made the name of John Paul Jones nautically im- 
mortal. 

The two warriors of the deep were on the same 
tack, headed northwest, driven by a slight wind which 
veered to the westward. The sea was smooth, the 
sky was clear, the full moon was rising — the con- 
ditions for a night struggle were ideal. 

Crash ! Crash ! Crash ! 

Broadside after broadside rolled and shrieked from 
ship to ship, as the air was filled with flying bits of 
iron. 

Crash ! Crash ! Crash ! 

Travelling very slowly, for the wind was little more 
than sufficient to give them steering-way in the tide, 
the two antagonists drifted along for twenty minutes, 
at cable length (600 to 900 feet — about the distance 
of the 220 yard dash). But suddenly — Boom! an 
explosion sounded in the gun-room of the Good Rich- 
ard. Two of her eighteen-pounders had blown up 
back of the trunnions ; many of the crew lay dead 
and dying, the after part of the main gun-deck was 
shattered like a reed : Senior Midshipman and Acting 
Lieutenant John Mayrant — who had command of 
this battery — was severely wounded in the head by 
a fragment of one of the exploded shells, and was 
scorched by the blast of flame. 

"Abandon your guns!" shouted First Lieutenant 
Dale, " and report with your remaining men to the 
main-deck battery! " 

" All right ! " answered Mayrant, as he bound a 



272 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

white kerchief around his bleeding head. " I'll be 
with you just as soon as I give them one more shot." 

This he endeavored to do, but not a gun could be 
touched off. " The old sixteen-pounders that formed 
the battery of the lower gun-deck, did no service 
whatever, except firing eight shots in all," writes John 
Paul Jones. " Two out of three of them burst at the 
first fire, killing almost all the men who were sta- 
tioned to manage them." 

The gunnery of the Good Ricliard was excellent. 
Though her battery was one-third lighter than that 
of the Scrapis; though her gun-crews were composed 
— to a great extent — of French volunteers, who had 
never been at sea before — in quickness and rapidity 
of fire, the shells from the American fell just as accu- 
rately as did those from the Britisher; pointed and 
gauged by regular, trained English men-of-war sea- 
men. The roar of belching cannon was deafening. 
The superior weight and energy of the British shot 
began to tell decisively against the sputtering twelve- 
pounders of the Richard, in spite of the fact that they 
were being served with quickness and precision. As 
the two battling sea-monsters drifted slowly along, a 
pall of sulphurous smoke hung over their black hulls, 
like a sheet of escaping steam. They were drawing 
nearer and nearer to each other. 

It was now about a quarter to eight. Wounded 
and dying littered the decks of both Britisher and 
American, but the fight was to the death. 

" Luff! Luff! " cried Captain Pearson, as the Rich- 
ard began to forge near him. " Luff ! Luff I and let 



JOHN PAUL JOiNES 273 

fly with all guns at the water-line. Sink the Yankee 
Pirate!" 

But Paul Jones was intent upon grappling with 
his adversary. Quickly jerking the tiller to one side, 
he shoved the Richard into the wind and endeavored 
to run her — bows on — into the side of his opponent. 
The Serapis paid off, her stern swung to, and, before 
she could gather way, the Richard's jib-boom shot 
over her larboard quarter and into the mizzen rigging. 

Jones was delighted. 

" Throw out the grappling hooks ! " cried he, in 
shrill tones. " Hold tight to the Britisher and be 
prepared to board! " 

In an instant, many clawing irons spun out into 
the mizzen stays of the Serapis; but, though they 
caught, the lines holding them soon parted. The 
Serapis fell off and the Richard lurched ahead. 
Neither had been able to bring her broadsides to bear. 

" We can't beat her by broadsiding," cried Jones. 
" We've got to board ! " 

Crash! Crash! Crash! 

Again tlie cannon made the splinters fly. Again 
the two gamecocks spat at each other like angry cats, 
but, the fire from the Richard was far weaker than 
before. 

Commodore Jones walked hastily to the gun-deck. 

" Dick," said he to Lieutenant Dale, " this fellow's 
metal is too heavy for us at this business. He is ham- 
mering us all to pieces. We must close with him! 
We must get hold of him! Be prepared at any mo- 
ment to abandon this place and bring what men you 



274 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN, 

have left on the spar-deck — and give them the small 
arms for boarding when you come up." 

Lieutenant Dale saluted. 

" All right ! " cried he. " I'll be with you in a jifty, 
Commodore." 

As Jones walked hastily to the main deck — the 
Lieutenant ran to the store-room and dealt out cut- 
lasses, pistols and pikes, to the eager men. The deck 
was red with blood. 

The worst carnage of all was at " number two " gun 
of the forward, starboard division. From the first 
broadside until the quarter-deck was abandoned, nine- 
teen different men were on this gun, and, at this time, 
only one of the original crew remained. It was the 
little Indian, Antony Jeremiah ; or, as his mates called 
him, " Red Cherry." 

" Let me join you," he cried, as he saw Mayrant's 
boarding party. Seizing a cutlass and dirk, he stood 
beside the cluster of men, eager and keen to have a 
chance at the enemy. A soul of fire was that of the 
little savage — and now he had a splendid opportu- 
nity to indulge in the natural blood-thirst of his race, 
for an Indian loves a good fight, particularly when 
he is upon the winning side. 

The vessels swung on slowly — the fire from the 
Serapis still strong and accurate ; the sputtering vol- 
leys from the Richard growing weaker and weaker. 
Only three of the nine-pounders on the starboard 
quarter-deck were serviceable; the entire gun-deck 
battery w^as silent and abandoned. 

" We have him," cheerfully cried Captain Pearson 



JOHN PAUL JONES 275 

to one of his aides. " But, hello " — he continued, 
" what sail is that? " 

As he spoke the Alliance came bounding across the 
waves, headed for the two combatants, and looking 
as if she were to speedily close the struggle. 

" The fight is at an end," said Jones, jubilantly. 

Imagine his astonishment, chagrin, and mortifica- 
tion ! Instead of pounding the English vessel, the 
French ally discharged a broadside full into the stern 
of the Richard, ran off to the northward, close hauled, 
and soon was beyond gunshot. 

" Coward ! " shouted John Paul, shaking his fist at 
the retreating ally. " I'll get even with you for this 
if it takes me twenty years ! " 

No wonder he was angered, for, with his main bat- 
tery completely silenced, his ship beginning to sink, 
nearly half his crew disabled, his wheel shot away, 
and his consort firing into him, there remained but 
one chance of victory for John Paul Jones: to foul 
the enemy and board her. 

Luckily a spare tiller had been fitted to the rudder 
stem of the Richard below the main tiller — before 
leaving port — because of the fear that the wheel, 
would be disabled. The foresight of the Commodore 
had effected this ; and now — by means of this extra 
steering-gear — the battered warrior-ship was enabled 
to make one, last, desperate lunge for victory. It 
was touch and go with John Paul Jones. 

" I could distinctly hear his voice amid the crashing 
of musketry," says a seaman. " He was cheering on 
the French marines in their own tongue, uttering such 



276 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

imprecations upon the enemy as I have never before 
or since heard in French, or any other language. He 
exhorted them to take good aim, pointed out the ob- 
ject of their fire, and frequently took their loaded 
muskets from their hands in order to shoot them him- 
self. In fact, towards the very last, he had about him 
a group of half a dozen marines who did nothing but 
load their firelocks and hand them to the Commodore: 
who fired them from his own shoulder, standing on 
the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay." 

Luck now came to the disabled Richard. A fortu- 
nate puff of wind struck and filled her sails, shooting 
her alongside of the growling Serapis, and to wind- 
ward. The canvas of the Britisher flapped uselessly 
against her spars. She was 1)lanketed and lost steer- 
ing-way. In a moment the jib-boom of the English 
vessel ran over the poop-deck of the American ship. 
It was seized, grappled by a turn of small hawsers, 
and made fast to the mizzen-mast. 

" She's ours ! " cried John Paul Jones. " Seize that 
anchor and splice it down hard ! " 

As he spoke, the fluke of the starboard anchor of 
the Serapis hooked in the mizzen chains. It was 
lashed fast, and the Richard had been saved. 

Rattle! Rattle! Crash! sounded the muskets of 
the French marines. The English tried to cut their 
anchor chains and get free, but all who attempted to 
sever these hawsers were struck dead by the accurate 
balls from the marksmen on the poop-deck and round- 
house of the Richard. 

" I demand your surrender! " shouted Pearson. 



I 




From an old pi int. 

"they swarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce cheers. 



JOHN PAUL JONES 277 

"Surrender?" cried John Paul Jones. "Why, I 
am just beginning to fight! " 

Then he turned to John Mayrant,\vho stood ready 
to rush across the hammock-nettings into the waist 
of the enemy's ship. Twenty-seven sailors were 
near-by, each with a cutlass and two ship's pistols. 

" Board 'em! " he cried. 

Over the rail went the seamen — monkey-wise — 
over the rail, John Mayrant leading with a dirk in 
his teeth, like a Bermuda pirate. They swarmed into 
the forecastle amidst fierce cheers, the rattle of mus- 
ketry, and the hiss of flames. Just at the moment 
that John Mayrant's feet struck the enemy's deck, a 
sailor thrust a boarding-pike through the fleshy part 
of his right thigh. Crack! a pistol spat at him, and 
he fell prostrate. 

" Remember Portsea jail ! Remember Portsea 
jail ! " cried the dauntless raider, rushing down into 
the forecastle with his wild, yelping sailors. Pearson 
stood there ; crest-fallen — abashed. 

Seizing the ensign-halyards of the Serapis, as the 
raging torrent of seamen rolled towards him, the 
brave English sea-captain hauled the flag of his ship 
to the deck. 

The Richard had won ! 

" He has struck; stop firing! Come on board and 
take possession ! " yelled Mayrant, running to the rail. 

Lieutenant Dale heard him, and, swinging himself 
on the side of the Serapis. made his way to the quar- 
ter-deck, where Captain Pearson was standing. " T 
have the honor, sir. to be the first Lieutenant of the 



278 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

vessel alongside," said he saluting. " It is the Ameri- 
can Continental ship Bon Homme Richard, tinder 
command of Commodore Paul Jones. What vessel is 
this?" 

" His Britannic Majesty's late man-of-war the 
Serapis, sir," was the sad response, " and I am Cap- 
tain Richard Pearson." 

" Pardon me, sir," said the American officer, " in 
the haste of the moment I forgot to inform you that 
my name is Richard Dale and I must request you to 
pass on board the vessel alongside." 

f^earson nodded dejectedly. 

As he did so, the first Lieutenant of the Serapis 
came up from below, and, looking at Captain Pearson, 
asked, 

" Has the enemy struck, sir? " 

" No, sir! / have struck! " was the sad reply. 

" Then, I will go below and order our men to cease 
firing," continued the English Lieutenant. 

But Lieutenant Dale interrupted. 

" Pardon me, sir," said he, " I will attend to that; 
and, as for yourself, please accompany Captain Pear- 
son on board the ship alongside." 

With reluctant steps the two officers clambered 
aboard the battered Good Richard, where Commodore 
Jones received them with much courtesy. 

Bowing low. Captain Pearson offered him his 
sword. His first Lieutenant did likewise. 

" Captain Pearson," said the victorious John Paul, 
" you have fought heroically. You have worn this 
weapon to your own credit and to the honor of your 



JOHN PAUL JONES 279 

service. I hope that your sovereign will suitably 
reward you." 

The British commander was the image of chagrin 
and despair. He bowed again, and then walked slowly 
into the cabin, followed by his crest-fallen Lieuten- 
ant. 

It was nearly midnight. The full moon above — 
in a cloudless sky — made it almost as light as day. 
Seven feet of water were in the hold of the Richard; 
she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were 
below the water-line and could not be plugged. 
Nearly sixty of her crew lay dead upon her decks; 
more than a hundred and twenty were desperately 
wounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard 
broadside was either dismounted, or disabled. The 
starboard side, which had been opposite the Serapis's 
eighteen-pounders. was driven so far in. that, but for 
a few frames and stanchions which remained, the 
whole gun-deck would have fallen through. She was 
afire, and the flames licked upward with an eager 
hiss. 

"Take the wounded aboard the Serapis!" com- 
manded Captain Jones. " We must desert our good 
ship! " 

In an hour's time all were upon the deck of the 
vanquished Britisher. No one was left on the Richard 
but the dead. The torn and tattered flag was still 
flying from the gaff, and. as the battered sea-warrior 
gradually settled in the long swell the unconquered 
ensign fluttered defiantly in the slight breeze. At 
length the Bon Homme Richard plunged downward 



280 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high, 
and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and suck- 
ing air, the conqueror disappeared from view. To 
her immortal dead was bequeathed the flag which 
they had so desperately defended. 

So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had 
made his name immortal. And by it he was to be 
known for all time. 

This was not the end of his career, by any means. 
He never again fought for the infant Republic of the 
United States. But he became an Admiral in the 
Russian Navy : battled valorously for the great Em- 
press Catherine against the Turks, and died in Paris, 
July 1 8th, 1792. 

Buried at the French capital, his body was disin- 
tea-red in the year 1905. and brought to the United 
States, to be entombed with military honors, at An- 
napolis, Maryland. 

Paul Jones loved brave men. The braver they were 
the more he loN-ed them. When he went ashore and 
hapi)ened to meet his old sailors — every one of whom 
he knew and called by his first name — they seldom 
failed to strip his pockets of the last shilling. He 
was generous to a fault and faithful to his friends. 
His time, his purse, his influence were always at the 
call of those who had served under him. A typical 
sea-dog : a brave fighter, — 

Then, why not give three times three for John Paul 
Jones ? 

Are you ready? 



JOHN PAUL JONES 281 



THE ESCAPE 

'Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars, 
And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through 

her pitch-pine spars : 
With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the 

gale; 
On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head 

of Kinsale. 

It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and 

strong, 
As gayly, o'er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along; 
With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she 

spread, 
And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head. 

There was no talk of short'ning sail, by him who walked the poop. 

And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a 
hoop ! 

And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held 
the tack, 

But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and sil- 
very track. 

The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore 

to shore, 
And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to 

Dunmore. 
And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls 

each hour, 
And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on 

Waterford tower. 

What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the 

breeze ? 
'Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old 

Saltees, 
For, by her pond'rous press of sail, and by her consorts four. 
We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War. 



282 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Up spoke our noble Captain — then — as a shot ahead of us 

passed, — 
" Haul snug your flowing courses ! Lay your topsail to the 

mast ! " 
Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their 

covered ark. 
And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of 

our patriot barque. 

"Out booms! Out booms!" our skipper cried, "Out booms! 
and give her sheet! " 

And the swiftest keel that e'er was launched, shot ahead of the 
British fleet, 

'Midst a thundering shower of shot, — and with stern-sails hoist- 
ing away, 

Down the North Race Paul Jones did steer, just at the break of 
day. 

— Old Ballad. 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 

STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF 

NEW ENGLAND 

(1751-1813) 



"If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest fight." 

— Dock-end Philosophy. 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 

STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF 

NEW ENGLAND 

(1751-1813) 

" Talk about your clipper ships, chipper ships, ripper ships, 
Talk about your barquentines, with all their spars so fancy, 
I'll just take a sloop-o'-war with Talbot, with Talbot, 
An' whip 'em all into 'er chip, an' just to suit my fancy. 

" So, heave away for Talbot, for Talbot, for Talbot, 
So, heave away for Talbot, an' let th' Capting steer, 
For, he's the boy to smack them, to crack them, to whack them, 
For he's th' boy to ship with, if you want to privateer." 

— Ballads of Rhode Island. — 1782. 

A TRADING vessel, laden with wheat, from Car- 
digan in Wales, was lying to in the English 
Channel. Nearby rolled a long-bodied Ameri- 
can Privateer, while a boat neared the trader, in the 
stern of which sat a staunch, weather-beaten officer in 
a faded pea-jacket. It was the year 18 13 and war was 
on between England and the United States. 

When the blustering captain entered the cabin to 
survey his prize, he spied a small box with a hole in the 
top, on which was inscribed the words, " Missionary 
Box." He drew back, astonished. 

" Pray, my bold seaman." said he, turning to the 
Welsh captain, "what is this?" 

285 



286 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Oh," replied the honest, old sailor, heaving a sigh, 
" 'tis all over now." 

" What? " asked the American privateersman. 

" Why, the truth is," said the Welshman, " that I 
and my poor fellows have been accustomed, every Mon- 
day morning, to drop a penny each into that box for the 
purpose of sending out missionaries to preach the 
Gospel to the heathen ; but it's all over now." 

The American seemed to be much abashed. 

" Indeed," said he, " that is very good of you." 
And, pausing a few moments, he looked abstractedly 
into the air, humming a tune beneath his breath. 

" Captain," said he, at length, " I'll not hurt a hair 
of your head, nor touch your vessel." 

So saying, he turned on his heel, took to his boat, 
and left the Welshman to pursue its even course. And 
— as the privateer filled away to starboard — a voice 
came from the deck of the helpless merchantman, 

" God bless Captain Silas Talbot and his crew ! " 

But we do not know what the owners of the pri- 
vateer said to the humane skipper about this little 
affair when he returned to New York. They might 
have uttered hard words about a Welshman who scored 
upon him by means of a pious fraud. At any rate 
Silas Talbot had done a good deed. 

This valorous privateer was born at Dighton, Mas- 
sachusetts, on the Sakonet River about the year 1752; 
beginning his career at sea as a cabin-boy. At twenty- 
four he was a captain in the United States army and 
fought in the Revolutionary war, for a time, on land. 
But — by reason of his nautical training — he was 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 287 

placed in command of a fireship at New York, and was 
soon promoted to be Major — but still with duties 
upon the water and not the shore. While here, a 
soldier came to him, one day, with his eyes alight in 
excitement. 

" Major," said he, " there's a chance for a splendid 
little enterprise. Just off the coast of Rhode Island, 
near Newport, lies a British vessel, moored to a kedge. 
She mounts fifteen guns and around her is stretched a 
stout netting to keep off a party of boarders. But we 
can cut it and get through, I'll warrant. And the game 
is worth the candle." 

Young Talbot was delighted at the thought of a 
little expedition. 

" I'll tell you how we'll cut through," said he. 
" We'll fix a small anchor at the bowsprit of our sloop. 
Then, we'll ram her into the netting at night, and — if 
our vessel can punch hard enough — we'll have forty 
Americans upon the deck before you can say ' Jack 
Robinson.' " 

The soldier laughed. 

" Major Talbot," said he, " you are a true fighting 
man. I'll have a crew for you within twenty-four 
hours and we'll take the good sloop Jasamine, lying off 
of Hell Gate. Ahoy for the capture of the English- 
man!" 

In two days' time, all was ready for the expedition. 
The sloop Jasamine slowly drifted into the harbor of 
New York, an anchor spliced to her bowsprit, a crew 
of sturdy adventurers aboard ; and, filling away in a 
stout sou'wester, rolled down the coast in the direction 



288 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

of Rhode Island. Reaching the vicinity of Newport, 
she lay to behind a sheltering peninsula, waiting for the 
night to come, so that she could drop down upon the 
Englishman under the cloak of darkness. 

Blackness settled upon the still and waveless water. 
With muffled oars the sloop now glided towards the 
dark hull of the British gun-boat; her men armed to 
the teetli, with fuses alight, and ready to touch off the 
cannon at the slightest sign of discovery. All was still 
upon the towering deck of the war-vessel and the little 
lights twinkled at her bow. 

But what was that? 

Suddenly a voice came through the darkness. 

" Who goes there ? " 

No answer came but the dip of the oars in unison. 

" Who goes there? Answer, or I fire! " 

Again the slow beat of the oars and nothing more. 

Crash ! 

A musket spoke from the jutting bow in front of 
the sloop and a bullet struck in the foremast of the 
staunch attacker, with a resounding z-i-n-n-g ! 

" We're discovered," whispered Talbot. " Pull for 
your lives, men, and punch her like a battering-ram. 
When we've cut through the netting, let every fellow 
dash upon her decks, and fight for every inch you can." 

As he ceased speaking, the bow of the sloop struck 
the roping stretched around the man-o'-warsman, and 
a ripping and tearing was plainly heard above the crash 
of small arms, the shouts of men, and the rumble of 
hawsers. Two cannon spoke from the side of the 
Englishman, and, as their roar echoed across the still 




"TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAME 
LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE." 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 2SQ 

ocean, the guns of the Jasamine belched forth their 
answer. 

The anchor attached to the bowsprit had done what 
was desired. It tore a great hole in the stout netting, 
ripped open a breach sufficiently wide for entrance to 
the deck, and, as the cannon grumbled and spat at the 
sloop, — the bowsprit was black with jack-tars scram- 
bling for an opportunity to board the Britisher. 

" Now, men," shouted Major Talbot, above the din. 
"Swing our craft sideways! Let go the port guns, 
and then let every mother's son rush the foe ! And 
your cry must be, ' Death and no quarter! ' " 

As he ceased, the good Jasamine was forced side- 
ways into the man-o'-warsman, and, propelled by the 
current, drifted against her with tremendous force, 
crushing the remaining nets as she did so. A few of 
the Americans were already on the deck in a terrific 
struggle with the half-sleepy English seamen, but — in 
a moment — Talbot, himself, at the head of his entire 
crew, came leaping across the side. 

Now was a scene of carnage. The cutlasses of both 
Yankee tar and British, were doing awful execution, 
and pistols were cracking like hail upon the roof. 
Back, back, went the English before the vigorous as- 
sault of the stormers, and. as the deck was now piled 
with the dead and dying, the commander of the man- 
o'-warsman cried out, 

" I surrender ! Cease, you Yankee sea-dogs. You're 
too smart for me! " 

So saying, he held up a handkerchief tied to his 
cutlass, and the battle ceased. 



290 FAMOUfS PKIVATEERSMEN 

The story of the fight of Silas Talbot's was now on 
every lip, and all praised the daring and courage of 
this valorous Major, who was as bold as a lion, and 
as courageous as any seaman who sailed upon the sea. 

Promotion came rapidly to the soldier-sailor. In 
1779 he became a colonel and was placed in command 
of the Argo, a sloop of about one hundred tons, armed 
with twelve six-pounders, and carrying but sixty men. 
'Tis said that she looked like a " clumsy Albany 
trader," with one great, rakish mast, an immense main- 
sail, and a lean boom. Her tiller was very lengthy, she 
had high bulwarks and a wide stern — but, in spite of 
her raw appearance, she could sail fast and could show 
a clean pair of heels to most vessels of twice her size. 

Shortly after taking charge of this privateer, word 
was brought that Captain Hazard of the privateer 
King George was off the coast of Rhode Island. 

" That's what I want," cried Captain Talbot, slap- 
ping his knee. " This fellow Hazard is an American. 
He was born in Rhode Island, and, instead of joining 
in our righteous cause against the Mother Country, he 
has elected to fight against us. For the base purpose 
of plundering his old neighbors and friends, he has 
fitted out the King George and has already done great 
damage on the coast. Let me but catch the old fox and 
I'll give him a taste of American lead. I'll put a stop 
to the depredations of this renegade." 

The King George had fourteen guns and eighty men, 
but this did not worry staunch and nervy Silas Talbot. 
He started in pursuit of her, as soon as he learned of 
her whereabouts, and, before many days, sighted a sail 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 291 

just off the New York coast, which was hoped to be 
the vessel of the renegade. 

Mile after mile was passed. Hour by hour the Argo 
ploughed after the silvery sails, until, late in the after- 
noon, the stranger hovered near a shallow harbor on 
the coast, and seemed to await the on-coming privateer 
with full confidence. 

The Argo boomed along under a spanking sou'- 
wester and, sailing near the stranger, to the keen eyes 
of Talbot came the welcome sight of King George 
painted upon the stern of the rakish privateer. 

" All hands man the guns," cried he. '" We'll sink 
th' rascally Hazard with all his crew, unless he strikes. 
She's got more men and guns, but what care we for 
that. Take hold, my Hearties, and we'll soon make her 
know her master." 

The King George seemed to welcome the coming 
fight ; she luffed ; lay to ; and her men could be seen 
standing ready at the polished cannon. Now was one 
of the strangest battles of American sea history. 

The King George cruised along under a full 
spread of canvas, jibbed, came about upon the port 
quarter of the stranger, and ran up to within shooting 
distance, when a broadside was poured into the deck 
of the rolling- Argo. She replied with her own four- 
teen guns, and, before they could be reloaded, the King 
George struck her alongside; the American seaman 
swarmed across the rail ; and — if we are to believe a 
historian of the period — " drove the crew of King 
George from their quarters, taking possession of her. 
without a man on either side being- killed." Hats off 



292 FAMOUS PKIVATEERSMEN 

to the doughty Silas Talbot for this brave adventure! 
Did you ever hear of such a fight with no man ever 
being slaughtered? 

Again rang the fame of Silas Talbot, but he was not 
to rest long upon laurels won. The British privateer 
Dragon — of three hundred tons and eighty men — 
was hovering near Providence, Rhode Island, hungry 
and eager for unprotected merchantmen. 

" I'll have to strike her," said Captain Talbot. 

It was a beautiful day in June. As the Dragon 
drowsed along listlessly a dozen miles off the shore, her 
top-sails barely filling in the gentle southerly breeze, the 
watch suddenly stirred, and sang out in no gentle 
tones, 

" Sail ho, off the starboard ! Looks like Captain 
Talbot of the Argo! " 

The captain came bounding from his cabin, glass in 
hand. 

" Sure enough," said he, scanning the white sails 
upon the horizon. ** It's Talbot and we're in for a 
tight affair. All hands prepare for action ! " 

There was noise and confusion upon the deck of the 
privateer as the guns were sponged, charges were 
rammed home, and all prepared for battle. Meanwhile, 
the stranger came nearer, and rounding to within 
striking distance, crashed a broadside into the slum- 
bering Dragon, who had not yet shown her fangs. 

Crackle! Crackle! Boom! 

The small arms from the Britisher began to spit at 
the advancing privateer, and seven of her fourteen 
guns rang out a welcome to the sailors of Rhode 



CAPTAIN 8ILAS TALBOT 293 

Island. The solid shot ploughed through the rigging, 
cutting ropes and spars with knife-like precision. 

" Round her to on the port quarter ! " shouted Cap- 
tain Talbot, "and get near enough for boarding!" 

But, as the Argo swung near her antagonist, the 
Dragon dropped away — keeping just at pistol-shot 
distance. 

" Run her down ! " yelled the stout Rhode Islander, 
as he saw this manoeuvre of his wily foe. Then he 
uttered an exclamation of disgust, for, as he spoke, a 
bullet struck his speaking trumpet, knocking it to the 
deck, and piercing it w^ith a jagged hole. 

" Never mind ! " cried he, little disconcerted at the 
mishap. " Give it to her, boys! " 

Then he again uttered an exclamation, for a bound- 
ing cannon ball ■ — ricochetting from the deck — took 
off the end of his coat-tail.^ 

" I'll settle with you for that," yelled the old sea- 
dog, leaping to a cannon, and, pointing it himself, he 
touched the fuse to the vent. A puff of smoke, a roar, 
and a ball ploughed into the mainmast of the rocking 
Dragon. 

Talbot smiled with good humor. 

" Play for that, my brave fellows," he called out, 
above the din of battle. " Once get the mainmast 
overside, and we can board her." 

With a cheer, his sailors redoubled their efforts to 
sink the Dragon, and solid shot fairly rained into her 
hull, as the two antagonists bobbed around the rolling 

^A true incident vouched for by two historians. 



294 FAMOUS PEIVATEERSMEN 

ocean in this death grapple. Thus they sparred and 
clashed for four and a half hours, when, with a great 
splitting of sails and wreck of rigging, the mainmast 
of the Dragon trembled, wavered, and fell to leeward 
with a sickening thud. 

" She's ours ! " yelled Captain Talbot, through his 
dented speaking trumpet. 

Sure enough, the Dragon had had enough. Her 
wings had been clipped, and, in a moment more, a 
white flag flew from her rigging. 

"The Argo is sinking! The Argo is sinking!" 
came a cry, at this moment. 

" Inspect the sides of our sloop," cried Talbot. 

This was done, immediately, and it was found that 
there were numerous shot-hqles between wind and 
water, which were speedily plugged up. Then, bear- 
ing down upon the crippled Dragon, she was boarded ; 
a prize-crew was put aboard ; and the Argo steered for 
home, her men singing, 

" Talk about your gay, old cocks, 
Yankee, Doodle, Dandy, 
' Si ' Talbot he can heave the blocks, 
And stick like pepp'mint candy. 

" Yankee — Doodle — Shoot and kill, 
Yankee — Doodle — Dandy, 
Yankee — Doodle — Back an' fill, 
Yankee — Doodle — Dandy." 

Silas Talbot, in fact, had done extremely well, but, 
not content with his laurels already won, he soon put 
out again upon the Argo, in company with another 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 295 

privateer from Providence, Rhode Island, called the 
Saratoga; which sailed under a Captain Munro. They 
were not off the coast more than two days when they 
came across the Dublin; a smart, English privateer- 
cutter of fourteen guns, coming out of Sandy Hook. 
Instead of running away, she ploughed onward, and 
cleared for action. 

The Argo and the Saratoga ran in upon the wind- 
ward quarter and banged away with audacity. The 
fight lasted for an hour. Then — as the Argo tacked 
in closer in order to grapple and board — the Saratoga 
was headed for the privateer. But — instead of com- 
ing in — she began to run off in the wind. 

" Hard a-weather ! Hard up there with the helm ! " 
cried Captain Munro. 

" It is hard uji ! " cried the steersman. 

" You lie, you blackguard ! " cried Munro. " She 
goes away lasking ! Hard a-weather I say again ! " 

" It is hard a-weather, I say again, captain," cried 
tlie fellow at the tiller. 

" Captain Talbot thinks that I am running away 
when I want to join him," cried Munro. " What the 
deuce is the matter anyway? " 

" Why, I can tell you," cried a young- Lieutenant. 
" You've got an iron tiller in place of the wooden one, 
and she's loose in the rudder head, so your boat won't 
steer correctly." 

" Egad, you're right," said Munro, as he examined 
the top of the tillea-. " Now, jam her over and we'll 
catch this Dublin of old Ireland, or else I'm no sailor. 
We'll give her a broadside, too, when we come up." 



296 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

The Argo, meanwhile, was hammering the English- 
man in good fashion, and, as the Saratoga pumped a 
broadside into her — raking her from bow to stern — 
the Dublin struck her colors. 

" Two to one, is too much odds," cried the English 
captain, as a boat neared the side of his vessel. " I 
could have licked either of you, alone." 

And, at this, both of the American privateersmen 
chuckled. 

Old " Si " Talbot was soon in another fight. Three 
days later he chased another sail, and coming up with 
her, found his antagonist to be the Betsy: an English 
privateer of twelve guns and fifty-eight men, com- 
manded by an honest Scotchman. 

The Argo ranged up alongside and Talbot hailed 
the stranger. After a bit of talk he hoisted the Stars 
and Stripes, crying, 

"You must haul down those British colors, my 
friend!" 

To which the Scot replied : 

" Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I sus- 
pected, yet, sir, I believe that I sh.nll let them hang a 
little longer, with your permission. So fire away, 
Flanagan ! " 

" And that I'll do," yelled Talbot. " Flanagan will 
be O'Toole and O'Grady before the morning's over. 
For I'll beat you like an Irish constable from Cork." 

So it turned out. Before an hour was past, the 
Betsy had struck, the captain w^as killed, and all of 
his officers were w^ounded. 

" Old Si " — you see — had had good luck. So 



CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT 297 

well, indeed, had he fought, that in 1780 he was put 
in command of a good-sized vessel, the General Wash- 
ington. In her he cruised about Sandy Hook in search 
of spoil. 

One hazy day in August, the watch sang out, 

" Several sail astern. Sir ! Looks like a whole 
squadron! " 

Talbot seized the glass and gazed intently at the 
specks of white. 

"Egad! It is a squadron," said he, at length. 
" And they're after me. Crowd on every stitch of 
canvas and we'll run for it." 

So all sail was hoisted, and the General Washington 
stood out to sea. 

But the sails of the pursuers grew strangely clear. 
They came closer, ever closer, and Talbot paced the 
deck impatiently. 

" Gad Zooks 1 " cried he, " I wish that I could fly like 
a bird." 

He could not fly, and, in two hours' time the red flag 
on the foremast of a British brig was clear to the eyes 
of the crew of the privateer. When — an hour later — 
a solid shot spun across his bow, " Old Si " Talbot hove 
to, and ran up the white flag. He was surrounded by 
six vessels of the English and he felt, for once, that 
discretion was the better part of valor. 

" Old Si " was now thrown into a prison ship off 
Long Island and then was taken to England aboard 
the Yarmouth. Imprisoned at Dartmoor, he made 
four desperate attempts to escape. All failed. 



298 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

In the summer of 1781 he was Hberated; found his 
way home to Rhode Island; and died " with his boots 
on " in New York, June 30th, 1813. The old sea- 
dogs of his native state still cherish the memory of 
" Capting Si ; " singing a little song, which runs : 

" He could take 'er brig or sloop, my boy. 
An' fight her like 'er man. 
He could steer 'er barque or barquentine, 
An' make her act jest gran! 
' Ole Si ' wuz 'er rip-dazzler, 
His flag wuz never struck, 
Until 'er British sqnadroon, 
Jest catched him in th' ruck." 

"So drink 'er drop ter 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my! 

Drink 'er glass ter ' Ole Si,' th' skipper from our kentry. 

Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my! 

Give three cheers fer ' Ole Si,' th' pride o' New^port's gentry." 



CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY 
THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE 

(1759- 1818) 



" Never strike your flag until you have to. And if you have 
to, why let it come down easy-like, with one, last gun, — f cr 
luck." — Maxims of 1812. 



CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY 

THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE 

(1759-1818) 

If you would hear of fighting brave, 

Of war's alarms and prisons dark, 

Then, listen to the tale I tell, 

Of Yankee pluck — and cruising barque. 

Which, battling on the rolling sea, 

There fought and won, — Can such things be ? 

IT was about eight o'clock in the evening. The 
moon was bright, and as the privateer Pomona 
swung along in the fresh breeze, her Captain, 
Isaiah Robinson of New York, laid his hand softly 
upon the shoulder of his first officer, Joshua Barney, 
saying, 

" A ship off the lee-quarter, Barney, she's an Eng- 
lishman, or else my name's not Robinson." 
Barney raised his glass. 

" A British brig, and after us, too. She's a fast 
sailer and is overhauling us. But we'll let her have 
a broadside from our twelve guns and I believe that 
we can stop her." 

The Pomona carried thirty-five men. Laden with 
tobacco for Bordeaux. France, she was headed for 
that sunny land, — but all ready for a fight, if one 
should come to her. And for this she carried twelve 
guns, as her first officer had said. 

301 



302 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Tilie British boat came nearer and nearer. Finally 
she was close enough for a voice to be heard from her 
deck, and she ran up her colors. A cry came from 
the black body, 

" What ship is that? " 

There was no repl}', but the Stars and Stripes were 
soon floating from the mainmast of the American. 

" Haul down those colors ! " came from the Brit- 
isher. 

There was no answer, but the Pomona swung 
around so that her port guns could bear, and a clash- 
ing broadside plunged into the pursuer. Down came 
her fore-topsail, the rigging cut and torn in many 
places, and. as the American again showed her heels, 
the British captain cried out, 

" All sail aloft and catch the saucy and insolent 
privateer ! " 

Then commenced one of the most interesting run- 
ning actions of American naval history. 

" The cursed American has no stern-gun ports," 
said the British sea-captain. " So keep the ship abaft, 
and on th' port quarter, where we can let loose our 
bow-guns and get little in return." 

This was done, but — if we are to believe an old 
chronicler of the period — " The British crew had 
been thrown into such confusion by the Pomona's 
first broadside that they zvcre able to Urc only one or 
two shots every half hour." 

" By Gad," cried Joshua Barney to Captain Rob- 
inson, about this time, " let's cut a hole in our stern, 
shove a cannon through it, and whale the British 



CAPTAIN " JOSH " BARNEY 303 

landlubber as he nears us for another shot with her 
bow-chasers." 

The captain grinned. 

" A good idea, Barney, a good idea," he chuckled. 
" Now we can teach her to keep clear of us." 

So a three-pounder soon poked her nose through 
the stern, and, when the proud Britisher again came 
up for one of her leisurely discharges, she received a 
dose of grape which made her captain haul off pre- 
cipitously. Nor did he venture near again for an- 
other shot at the saucy fugitive. 

When daylight came, sixteen guns were counted 
upon the British brig. 

"By George!" shouted Barney. "See those of- 
ficers in the rigging. She's a gun-ship — a regular 
ship-of-war." 

But Captain Robinson laughed. 

" That's an old game," said he. " They're tryin' 
to fool us into the belief that she's a real gun-boat, 
so's we'll surrender immediately. But see — she's 
drawin' near again — and seems as if she's about to 
board us from the looks of her crew." 

Barney gazed intently at the stranger. 

" You're right," said he. " Load the three-pounder 
with grape-shot." 

" And here's a crow-bar as'll top it off nice," put 
in a sailor. 

Captain Robinson laughed. 

" Yes, spike her in, too. She'll plunk a hole clear 
through th' rascal," he cried. " I'll touch her off 
myself." 



304 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

The British gun-boat drew nearer and nearer. Just 
as she was within striking distance — about ten yards 
— the three-pounder was touched off with a deaf'ning 
roar. 

" So accurate was the aim," says an old historian, 
" that the British w^ere completely baffled in their 
attempt; their foresails and all their weather fore- 
shrouds being cut away." 

" Give her a broadside! " called out Captain Rob- 
inson, as the brig sheered off in order to support its 
foremast, which tottered with its own weight; the 
rigging which supported it, being half cut away. And, 
as he spoke — the crew let drive a shower of balls 
and grape-shot. It was the last volley. 

The Pomona kept upon her course, while the white 
sails of the attacker grew fainter and fainter upon 
the horizon. 

" I saw her name as she ranged in close to us," 
said Joshua Barney, slapping Captain Robinson on the 
back. " And it was the Rosebud/' 

" I reckon that Rosebud has no thorns left," 
chuckled Captain Robinson, and he was still chuck- 
ling when the little Pomona safely sailed into the har- 
bor of Bordeaux in France. The voyage had been 
a success. 

Here a store of guns, powder and shot was pur- 
chased, and, having shipped a cargo of brandy, and 
raised the crew to seventy men, the staunch, little ves- 
sel set sail for America. 

Not three days from the coast of France the cry 
of " Sail ho ! " startled all on board, and, upon the 



CAPTAIN ^^JOSH" BARNEY 305 

starboard quarter — loomed a British privateer. Upon 
nearer view she was seen to have sixteen guns and 
seventy men. 

" All hands for a fight ! " cried Robinson. " Don't 
let th' fellow escape." 

Now was a hard battle. It lasted for full two hours, 
and — in the end — the Britisher struck, with twelve 
killed and a number wounded, while the American 
loss was but one killed and two wounded. The Po- 
mona kept upon her course, jubilantly. 

But the saucy ship was not to have all smooth sail- 
ing. She was soon captured — by whom it is not 
known — and stout "Josh" Barney became a pris- 
oner of war. In December, 1780, with about seventy 
American officers, he was placed on board the Yar- 
mouth — a sixty-four-gun brig — and was shipped 
to England. 

Now listen to the treatment given him according 
to a contemporaneous historian. Did you ever hear 
of anything more atrocious ? Peace — indeed — had 
more horrors than war in the year 1780. 

" From the time these Americans stepped aboard 
the Yarmouth their captors gave it to be understood, 
by hints and innuendos, that they were being taken 
to England * to be hanged as rebels ; ' and, indeed 
the treatment they received aboard the Yarmouth on 
the passage over, led them to believe that the British 
officers intended to cheat the gallows of their prey, by 
causing the prisoners to die before they reached port. 

" On coming aboard the ship-of-the-line, these of- 
ficers were stowed away in the lower hold, next to 



306 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

the keel, under five decks, and many feet below the 
water-line. Here, in a twelve-by-twenty-foot room, 
with upcurving floor, and only three feet high, the 
seventy-one men were kept for fifty-three days, like 
so much merchandise — witliout light or good air — 
unable to stand upright, with no means to get away. 

" Their food was of the poorest quality, and was 
supplied in such insufficient quantities, that, whenever 
one of the prisoners died, the survivors concealed the 
fact, in order that the dead man's allowance might be 
added to theirs. The water which they were served 
to drink was atrocious. 

" From the time the Yarmouth left New York till 
she reached Plymouth, in a most tempestuous winter 
passage, these men were kept in this loathsome dun- 
geon. Eleven died in delirium ; their wild ravings 
and piercing shrieks appalling their comrades, and 
giving them a foretaste of what they, themselves, 
might expect. Not even a surgeon was permitted to 
visit them. 

" Arriving at Plymouth, the pale, emaciated men 
were ordered to come on deck. Not one obeyed, for 
they were unable to stand upright. Consequently 
they were hoisted up, the ceremony being grimly sug- 
gestive of the manner in which they had been treated, 
— like merchandise. And what were they to do, now 
that they had been placed on deck ? 

" The light of the sun, which they had scarcely seen 
for fifty-three days, fell upon their weak, dilated pu- 
pils with blinding force: their limbs w^ere unable to 
uphold them, their frames wasted by disease and want. 



CAPTAIN ''JOSH" BARNEY 307 

Seeking for support, they fell in a helpless mass, one 
upon the other, waiting and almost hoping for the 
blow that was to fall upon them next. Captain Silas 
Talbot was one of these unfortunate prisoners. 

" To send them ashore in this condition was ' im- 
practicable,' so the British officers said, and we read- 
ily discover that this * impracticable ' served the pur- 
pose of diverting the indignation of the land's folk, 
which sure would be aroused, if they knew that such 
brutality had been practiced under the cross of St. 
George (the cross upon the British flag). 

" Waiting, then, until the captives could, at least, 
endure the light of day, and could walk without lean- 
ing on one another, or clutching at every object for 
support, the officers had them removed to the old Mill 
Prison." 

This story has been denied, for the reason that the 
log of the Yarmouth shows that she was forty- four 
and not fifty-three days at sea, and the captain writes : 

" We had the prisoners ' watched ' (divided into 
port and starboard watch) and set them to the pumps. 
I found it necessary so to employ them, the ship's 
company, from their weak and sickly state, being 
unequal to that duty, and, on that account to order 
them whole allowance of provisions." 

It would have been impossible for men to be in the 
condition which the first historian describes if they 
had to man the pumps. It would have been impossible 
for them to have done an hour's work. Therefore, 
I, myself, believe the second story. Don't you? 

But to return to stout " Josh " Barney, now medi- 



308 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

tating thoughts of escape in old Mill Prison. Bold 
and resourceful he was always, and he was now deter- 
mined to face the difficulties of an exit and the chances 
of detection. " I must and can get away," he said. 

The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog, 
and one day the crafty " Josh " pretended that he had 
sprained his ankle. Constructing two crutches — out 
of pieces of boards — he limi>ed around the prison- 
yard and completely deceived all but a few of his 
most intimate friends. 

One day — it was May the eighteenth, 1781 — he 
passed a sentry near the inner gate. The fellow's name 
was Sprokett and he had served in the British army 
in America, where he had received many kindnesses 
from the country people. For this reason his heart 
warmed to the stout, young " Josh," who had often 
engaged him in conversation. 

Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful 
American whispered, 

" Give me a British uniform and I will get away. 
Can you do it? " 

Sprokett smiled. 

" Sure," said he. 

"To-day?" 

" Dinner." 

And this meant one o'clock, when the warders 
dined. 

" All right," whispered " Josh," smiling broadly, 
and he again hobbled around the yard. 

After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come 
nearer. He did so — and as he approached — a large 



CAPTAIN ''JOSH" BARNEY 309 

bundle was stealthily shoved into his arms. He 
hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uni- 
form of an officer of the British army. 

Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard 
and hobbled about upon his two sticks until the time 
drew near for the mid-day mess. Then he drew close 
to the gate. 

One o'clock tolled from the iron bell upon the 
prison rampart, and, as its deep-toned echoes sounded 
from its tower, several of Barney's friends engaged 
the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was the 
time for action. 

The astute " Josh " suddenly dropped his crutches. 
Then — walking across the enclosure towards the 
gate, — he winked to the sentry. A companion was 
at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders. 
One boost — and .he was on top of the walk. An- 
other spring, and he had dropped to the other side as 
softly as a cat. 

But the second gate and sentry had to be passed. 

Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed 
four guineas (about $20.00) into his outstretched 
palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as the great-coat 
was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in the 
American Navy walked towards the opening through 
the outer wall, which was usually left ajar for the 
convenience of the prison officials. Another sentry 
stood upon duty at this point. 

Barney nodded. The sentry had been " squared " 
(told of the coming escape) and so he turned his back. 
Thus — with his heart beating like a trip-hammer — 



310 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

"Josh," the nervy one — walked down the cobbled 
street outside of the " Old Mill." He was free. 

Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had 
been told of his attempt, and who took him to the 
house of an old clergyman in Plymouth. In the morn- 
ing, with two fellow-countrymen, who were also in 
hiding (for they had been captured as passengers in 
a merchant vessel), he secured a fishing-smack. 
'* Josh " now covered his uniform. Putting on an 
old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, a 
pair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the dis- 
guised Jack-tar ran the little vessel down the River 
Plym, just as day was dawning. The forts and men- 
of-war were safely passed, and the little shallop tossed 
upon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel. 

We are told that his escape was not noticed for some 
time because " a slender youth who was capable of 
creeping through the window-bars at pleasure crawled 
into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and an- 
swered for him." I doubt this, for — if you have 
ever seen the bars of a prison — it would take a Jack 
Spratt to get through them, and Jack Spratts are not 
common. At any rate someone answered to the daily 
roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks 
before the authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps 
there was a ventriloquist in the jail. 

The tiny boat in which the adventurous American 
hoped to reach the welcome shores of France, bobbed 
up and down, as she ambled towards the low-lying 
coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was 
trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings 



CAPTAIN '^JOSH" BARNEY 311 

of a British privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a 
hail soon came : 

" What's your name, and where are you bound ? " 

Barney and his partners in distress did not answer 
at all. They scowled as a boat was lowered from the 
side of their pursuer, and quickly splashed towards 
them. In not many moments, a swearing sea-captain 
swung himself upon their deck. 

"Who are you, you lubbers?" said he. "Where' 
yer papers, and where' yer bound to ? " 

" I'm a British officer," replied the astute Joshua, 
opening his coat and disclosing the uniform of the 
service. " I am bound for France upon official busi- 
ness." 

The Captain snickered. 

" An' with two others in er' launch ? Aw go tell 
that to th' marines! " 

" It's God's truth. I'm in a state secret." 

" Wall — be that as it may be — you must come 
aboard of my vessel and tell yer state secret to th' 
authorities in England. Meanwhile, I'll put a skipper 
of my own aboard yer vessel and we'll travel together 
— ^bein' friends." 

Barney swore beneath his breath. 

Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie 
England in company, and upon the day following, 
came to anchor in a small harbor, six miles from 
Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ashore 
in order to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth, 
while most of the crew also hastened to the beach in 
order to avoid the chance of being seized by the press- 



312 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

gang, which harried incoming vessels for recruits for 
His Majesty's service. 

" Can't I go, too ? " asked the cautious " Josh." 

" No, you must remain on board until we come for 
you," said the captain, as he jumped into his boat en 
route for the shore. " Mister Officer, I want to search 
your record." Then he laughed brutishly. 

But Barney's thinking cap was working like a mill 
race. There was a jolly-boat tied to the stern of the 
privateer, and, when all were safe ashore, he gently 
slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as he did 
so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of 
idlers stood looking out to sea. 

" Here," he cried, as he neared them. " Help me 
haul up this boat, will yer? She's awful heavy." 

A custom's officer was among these loiterers and he 
was inquisitive. 

"Who are you?" said he. "What regiment and 
where stationed, pray? " 

" That I cannot answer, my friend," calmly replied 
the acute " Josh," pointing to the blood as it trickled 
through his stocking. " I am badly injured, you see, 
and must go away in order to get my leg tied up. 
Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from 
my vessel have gone to? " 

" They are at the Red Lion at the end of the vil- 
lage," replied the official of the law. " You are, in- 
deed, badly hurt." 

" Wall, I reckon," replied the American, and, stum- 
bling up the beach, he was soon headed for the end 
of the little village. 



CAPTAIN ^'JOSH" BARNEY 313 

But things were not to go too well with him. He 
found tliat he was obliged to pass the Red Lion, and 
he had almost succeeded in doing so unmolested, when 
one of the sailors who was loitering outside, cried 
out after him, 

" Ho, friend ! I would speak with you ! " 

" Josh " had to stop although sorely tempted to run 
for it. 

" I've got some idee of shippin' in th' Navy," said 
the fellow, as he approached. " Now, friend, you can 
tell me somethin' of th' pay an' service, as you're an 
officer of til' army." 

Barney's eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that 
his disguise had deceived the fellow. 

" Walk along with me towards Plymouth," said he, 
" and I'll explain everything to you. I have busi- 
ness there which will not wait and I must get on 
to it." 

So they jogged along together, talking vigorously 
about the Navy, but, in the course of half an hour 
the jack-tar seemed to think better of his plan for 
entering " a service noted for its cruelty to seamen," 
and turned back, saying, 

" Thank'ee my fine friend. Thank'ee. I'll stick to 
privateerin'. It's easier an' there's less cat-o-nine- 
tails to it." 

As soon as his burly form disappeared down the 
winding road, Barney began to grow anxious about 
his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sent after him? 
Perhaps — even now — men had discovered his ab- 
sence and were hurrying to intercept him ? So — 



314 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

with tliese thoughts upon his mind — he jumped over 
a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lx)rd Mount-Edge- 
cumbe. 

" Egad! it's touch and go with me," said he, as he 
walked down one of the gravelled paths. " I'm in 
for it now for here comes the gardener." 

Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged 
fellow, smiling as he pushed along a wheel-barrow 
filled with bulbs. 

Joshua walked up to him, extending his right 
hand. 

" My friend," said he, " I am an officer escaping 
from some seamen who wish my life because of a 
duel in which I recently engaged over the hand of a 
fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess. 
And — if you could but pilot me to the waterside and 
will not tell of my whereabouts — I will bless you to 
my dying day." 

The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly. 

" Prithee, but follow me," said he, " and we'll soon 
see that you pass by the way of the water gate. Your 
money is most welcome, sir, for my wife is just now 
ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you know 
right well." 

Barney lircathed easier as they walked towards the 
sea ; for out of the corner of his eye he saw a 
guard — sent to capture him — tramping along 
the other side of the hedge over which he had 
leaped. 

" Good-bye and good luck ! " cried the kind-hearted 
servant as he closed the private gate which led to the 



CAPTAIN "JOSH" BAENEY 315 

waterside. And, with a wave of the hand, the fleeing 
American was soon hastening to the winding river, 
over which he must cross in order to get on to Plym- 
outh. 

Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferry- 
ing some beeves by water, took him in his boat, and, 
as night fell, the keen-witted privateersman crept 
through the back door of the old clergyman's house 
at Plymouth — from which he had started. For the 
time being, he was safe. 

Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing- 
smack adventure here joined him once more, for they, 
also, had run away from the crew of the privateer, 
and — as they sat around the supper-table — the town- 
crier went by the house, .bawling in harsh and dis- 
cordant tones : 

" Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua 
Barney ; a rebel deserter from Mill Prison ! Five 
guineas reward for this deserter ! Five guineas ! Five 
guineas ! " 

But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in 
order to stop his laughter. 

Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, 
young dandy stepped into a post chaise, at midnight, 
and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth gate the con- 
veyance was stopped ; a lantern was thrust into the 
black interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned 
the visages of those within : 

" He's not here," growled the watchman, lowering 
the light. " Drive on ! " 

Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and free- 



316 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

dom, while the stout-bodied soldier little guessed that 
the artful privateersman had slipped through his fin- 
gers like water through a sieve. 

Two months later — in the autumn of 1781 — 
Joshua Barney : fighter, privateer, liar and fugitive, 
walked down the quiet streets of Beverly, Massachu- 
setts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered to his 
companions, 

" Say, Boys ! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's 
been through more'n we'll ever see. Say! He's a 
regular Scorcher ! " 

Many months later — when the Revolutionary War 
had ended — the good ship General Washington lay 
in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast of England. 
Her commander — Captain Joshua Barney — gazed 
contentedly at the Stars and Stripes as they flew 
jauntily from the mizzen-mast, and then walked to 
the rail, as a group of British officers came over the 
side. But there was one among these guests who was 
not an officer. He was bent, old, weather-beaten; 
and his dress showed him to be a tiller and worker 
of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of 
Lord Mount-Edgecumbe. 

"You remember me?" cried the genial American, 
grasping the honest servant by the hand. 

The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure. 

" You are the feller who jumped over the hedge — 
many years ago — when the sea-dogs were hot upon 
your trail." 

Joshua Barney chuckled. 



CAPTAIN ''JOSH" BARNEY 317 

" The same," said he. " And here is a purse of 
gold to reward my kind and worthy helpmeet." 

So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glit- 
tering eagles into the trembling hands of the ancient 
retainer. 



THE DERELICT 

Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep — 
Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze, 
It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas. 
Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep, 
When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep, 
From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades, 
In calm beatitude and tranquil ease, 
Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep. 
Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled, 
We saw the stout ship breast the open main. 
To round the stormy Cape, and span the World, 
In search of ventures which betoken gain. 
To-day. somewhere, on some far sea we know 
Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro. 



ROBERT SURCOUF 
THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO 

(1773 -1827) 



"If you would be known never to have done anything, never 
do it." — Emerson. 



ROBERT SURCOUF 

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO 

(1773 -1827) 

Parlez-vous Fratifaisf Yes, Monsieur, 

I can speak like a native, — sure. 

Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France, 

Throw it up high, and hasten the dance. 

For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town, 

Tcnes! He's worthy of wearing a crown. 

IT was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good 
ship Aurora swung lazily in the torpid waters of 
the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairly sizzled in the 
sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood. 
She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass. 

" I can't stand this any longer," said a young fellow 
with black hair and swarthy skin. " I'm going over- 
board." 

From his voice it was easy to see he was a French- 
man. 

Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway, 
and standing upon the steps, took a header into the 
oily brine. He did not come up. 

" Sacre nom de Dieu ! " cried a sailor. " Young 
Surcouf be no risen. Ah ! He has been down ze long 
time. Ah ! Let us lower ze boat and find heem." 

" Voila ! Voila ! " cried another. " He ees 
drowned ! " 

82X 



322 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

Plunkety, plunk, splash! went a boat over the side, 
and in a moment more, a half dozen sailors were 
eagerly looking into the deep, blue wash of the ocean. 

" He no there. I will dive for heem," cried out the 
fellow who had first spoken, and, leaping from the 
boat, he disappeared from view. 

In a few moments he reappeared, drawing the body 
of the first diver with him. It was apparently help- 
less. The prostrate sailor was lifted to the deck; 
rubbed, worked over, scrubbed, — but no signs of 
life were there. 

Meanwhile, a Portuguese Lieutenant, who was 
pacing the poop, appeared to be much pleased at what 
took place. 

" The fellow's dead ! The beggar's done for, — 
sure. Overboard with the rascal ! To the waves with 
the dead 'un ! " 

" Give us a few more moments," cried the sailors. 
" He will come to ! " 

But the Lieutenant smiled satirically. 

" To the waves with the corpse ! To the sharks 
with the man from St. Malo ! " cried he. 

And all of this the senseless seaman heard — for — 
he was in a cataleptic fit. where he could hear, but 
could not move. The Portuguese Lieutenant and he 
were bitter enemies. 

" Oh, I tell you, Boys, the fellow's dead ! " again 
cried the Portuguese. " Over with him ! " 

So saying, he seized the inert body with his hands; 
dragged it to the ship's side ; and started to lift it to 
the rail. 



ROBERT SURCOUF 323 

Conscious of all that went on around him, the para- 
lyzed Surcouf realized that, unless he could make some 
sign, he had only a few seconds to live. So, with a 
tremendous efifort — he made a movement of his limbs. 
It was noticed. 

" Voila! Voila!" cried a French sailor. " He ees 
alife. No! No! You cannot kill heem ! " 

Running forward, he grabbed the prostrate form of 
Robert Surcouf, pulled it back upon the deck, and — 
as the Portuguese Lieutenant went off cursing — he 
rubbed the cold hands of the half-senseless man. In a 
moment the supposed corpse had opened its eyes. 

" Ah ! " he whispered. " I had a close call. A thou- 
sand thanks to all ! " 

In five more moments he could stand upon the deck, 
and — believe me — he did not forget the Portuguese 
Lieutenant ! 

Robert Surcouf was born at St. Malo - — just one 
hundred years after Du Guay Trouin, to whom he 
was related. And like his famous relative he had been 
intended for the Church, — but he was always fight- 
ing; was insubordinate, and could not be made to 
study. In fact, he was what is known as a " holy 
terror." 

Finally g-ood Mamma Surcouf sent him to the Sem- 
inary of St. Dinan, saying: 

" Now, Robert, be a good boy and study hard thy 
lessons ! '' 

And Robert said, " Oui, Madame ! " But he would 
not work. 

One day the master in arithmetic did not like the 



324 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

method in which young " Bobbie " answered him, 
and raising a cane, he ran towards the youthful 
scholar. But Robert had learned a kind of " Jiu- 
jitsu " practiced by the youths of France, and he 
tackled his irate master like an end-rush upon the 
foot-ball team, when he dives for a runner. Both fell 
to the ground with a thud. And all the other boys 
yelled " Fine ! " in unison. 

Now was a fierce battle, but weight told, and 
" Bobbie " was soon underneath, with his teeth in the 
leg of his tutor. They scratched and rolled until 
" Bobbie " freed himself, and, running to the window, 
jumped outside — for he was on the ground floor — 
scaled the garden fence, and made off. Home was 
twenty miles away. 

" I must get there, somehow," said young " Bobbie." 
" I can never go back. I will be spanked so that I 
cannot seat myself." 

So little '' Bob " trudged onward in the snow, for 
it was winter. It grew dark. It was bitterly cold, and 
he had no hat. At length — worn out with cold and 
hunger — he sank senseless to the roadside. 

Luck pursues those destined for greatness. 

Some fish-merchants happened that way, and, see- 
ing the poor, helpless, little boy, they picked him up ; 
placed him upon a tiny dog-cart; and carried him to 
St. Malo, where he had a severe attack of pneumonia. 
But his good mother nursed him through, saying : 

" Ta done ! He will never be a scholar. Ta done ! 
Young Robbie must go to sea ! " 

So when " Bobbie " was well he was shipped aboard 



ROBERT SURCOUF 325 

the brig Heron, bound for Cadiz, Spain — and he was 
only just thirteen. But he threw up his cap crying, 

" This is just what I've always wanted. Hurrah 
for the salty brine! " 

At about twenty years of age we find him upon the 
good ship Aurora from which his dive into the Indian 
Ocean came near being bis last splash. And the Por- 
tuguese Lieutenant did not forget. 

Upon the next visit of the cruiser Aurora to the 
coast of Africa an epidemic of malarial fever struck 
the crew. Among those who succumbed to the disease 
was the Portuguese Lieutenant. He was dangerously 
ill. 

The ship arrived at the island of Mauritius, and. 
Lieutenant Robert Surcouf was just going ashore, 
when he received a message which said : 

" Come and see me. I am very ill." It was from 
his enemy, — the Portuguese. 

Surcouf did not like the idea, but after thinking the 
matter over, he went. But note this, — he had a pair 
of loaded pistols in his pocket. Dead men — you know 
— tell no tales. 

As he entered the sick man's cabin, a servant was 
there. The Portuguese made a sign to him to retire. 

" I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart," said 
he, turning his face to young Surcouf. " Before I pass 
from this world I want to relieve my conscience, and 
ask your forgiveness for all the evil which I have 
wished you during our voyages together." 

" I bear you no malice," said Surcouf. " Let by- 
gones be by-gones." 



326 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

As he spoke a spasm seemed to contort the body of 
the dying man. One arm stretched out towards a 
pillow nearby, and Robert had a sudden, but excellent 
thought. Stepping forward, he seized the hand of his 
old enemy, lifted the pillow, and, then started back 
with an exclamation of astonishment. 

'* Ye Gods ! " cried he. " You would murder me ! " 

There, before him, were two cocked and loaded 
pistols. 

Leaping forward he grabbed the weapons, pointing 
one at the forehead of tlie rascally sailor. 

" You miserable beast ! " cried he. " I can now 
shoot you like a dog, or squash you like an insect; 
but I despise you too much. I will leave you to die 
like a coward." 

" And," says a historian, " this is w^hat the wretched 
man did, — blaspheming in despairing rage." 

In October, 1794, Lieutenant Surcouf saw his first 
big battle, for, the English being at war with the 
French, two British men-of-war hovered ofT the island 
of Mauritius, blockading the port of St. Thomas. 
They were the Centurion of fifty-four guns, and the 
Diomedc, also of fifty-four cannon, but with fewer 
tars. The French had four ships of war : the Pru- 
dente, forty guns; the Cyhcle, forty-four guns; the 
Jean Bart, twenty guns; and the Courier, fourteen 
guns. Surcouf was Junior Lieutenant aboard the 
Cyhele. 

It was a beautiful, clear day, as the French vessels 
ploughed out to battle; their sails aquiver with the 
soft breeze; their pennons fluttering; guns flashing; 



ROBERT SURCOUF 327 

and eager sailors crowding to the rails with cutlasses 
newly sharpened and pistols in their sashes. 

Boom! 

The first gun spoke. The first shell spun across the 
bow of the British bull-dog Diomcdc, and the battle 
was on. 

Have you ever seen a school of pollock chasing a 
school of smaller fry ? Have you ever seen them 
jump and splash, and thud upon the surface of the 
water ? 

Well — that is the way that the shells looked and 
sounded — as they plumped and slushed into the sur- 
face of the southern sea ; and every now and then there 
was a punk, and a crash, and a chug, as a big, iron ball 
bit into the side of a man-of-war. 

Around and around sailed the sparring assailants, 
each looking for a chance to board. Crash! Roar! 
Crash! growled the broadsides. Shrill screams 
sounded from the wounded ; the harsh voices of the 
officers echoed above the din of the conflict ; and, the 
whining bugle squealed ominously between the roar- 
ing crush of grape and chain-shot. 

But the French got nearer and nearer. Great gaps 
showed in the bulwarks of the Diomcdc; one mast 
was tottering. Beaten and outnumbered she stood out 
to sea, her sailors crowding into the rigging like 
monkeys, and spreading every stitch of white canvas. 

" She runs ! Egad, she runs ! " cried the Com- 
mander of the other British vessel. " Faith, I cannot 
stand off four Frenchmen alone. I must after her 
to save my scalp." 



328 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

So — putting his helm hard over — he threw his 
vessel before the wind, and she spun off, pursued by 
bouncing shells and shrieking grapnel. 

"Voila!" cried the French. " Ze great battaile, 
eet belongs to us ! " But there were many dead and 
wounded upon the decks of the proud French war- 
ships. 

Soon after this smart, little affair the soldiers and 
sailors who had been in this fight were discharged, — 
and — looking about for employment, young Robert 
took the first position that presented itself : the com- 
mand of the brig Creole, — engaged in the slave trade. 
He made several successful voyages, but orders were 
issued to — 

" Arrest the Slave Hunter and all his crew, 
When they arrive at the Mauritius." 

One of those little birds which sometimes carry 
needed information, both on sea and land, whispered 
this ill news to the gallant, young sea-dog. So he 
steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed his 
human freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at 
anchor in the Harbor of St. Paul in that self-same 
island. 

About eight in the morning a boat was seen ap- 
proaching, and to the hail, — "Who. goes there?" 
came the reply — 

" Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We 
wish to come on board and to inspect your ship." 

Surcouf was much annoved. 



ROBERT SURCOUF 329 

" You can climb aboard," said he, stifling an ex- 
clamation of disgust. " I am at your service." 

In a few moments the commissioners were upon the 
deck, and, in a few moments more, they had discovered 
that the ship was a slaver. 

Turning to the youthful captain, one of the commit- 
tee said : 

'* You, sir, are engaged in illegal trafific. You must 
suffer for this, and must come with us at once to the 
city to answer an indictment drawn up against you." 

Surcouf smiled benignly. 

" I am at your service." said he, with a polite bow. 
" But do not go — I pray thee — until you have given 
me the great pleasure of partaking of the breakfast 
which my cook has hastily prepared." 

The Committee-men smiled. 

" You are very kind," said one. " We accept with 
pleasure." 

The hasty efforts of the cook proved to be most 
attractive. And, as the Commissioners smacked their 
lips over the good Madeira wine, the mate of the Creole 
dismissed the boat which had brought the stolid Com- 
missioners to the side. 

" The tender of our brig will take your people 
ashore," said he to the coxswain. 

No sooner had this tender neared the shore, than the 
cable of the Creole was slipped ; she left her anchorage ; 
and quickly drew out to sea in a fresh sou'westerly 
breeze. 

The unaccustomed rallying soon warned the Com- 
missioners that the vessel was no longer at anchor, 



330 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and, rushing to the deck, they saw — with dismay — 
that a full half mile of foam-flecked ocean lay between 
them and the island. 

"Ye Gods!" cried one, turning to Surcouf. 
" What mean you by this, sir? " 

The crafty Captain was smiling like the Cheshire 
cat. 

" You are now in my power," said he — very 
slowly and deliberately. " I am going to take you 
to the coast of Africa among your friends — the 
negroes. You seem to prefer them to the whites, so 
why not, pray? Meanwhile, — my kind sirs, — come 
below and take my orders." 

The Commissioners were flabber-gasted. 

" Pirate ! " cried one. 

" Thief! " cried another. 

" Scamp ! " shouted the third. 

But they went below, — mumbling many an impre- 
cation upon the head of the crafty Robert Surcouf. 

That night the wind freshened, the waves rose, and 
the good ship Creole pitched and tossed upon them, 
like a leaf. The Committeemen were very ill, for they 
were landsmen, and Surcouf's smile expanded. 

"Take us ashore! Take us ashore!" cried one. 
" We must get upon land." 

Surcouf even laughed. Everything was as he 
wished. 

" I will land you upon one condition only," said he. 
" Destroy the indictment against me and my ship. 
Write a document to the effect that you have found 
no traces of slaves upon my staunch craft. Say that 



ROBERT SURCOUF 331 

my boat was driven from her anchor by a tidal wave 
— and you can put your feet upon soHd ground." 

The three Commissioners scowled, but he had them. 
Besides they were sea-sick. 

In an hour's time, the desired paper had been drawn 
up. The Creole was headed for the Mauritius, — and, 
in eight days, the sad but wiser Commissioners were 
brooding over the smartness of Robert Surcouf when 
seated in their own snug little homes. " He is a ras- 
cal," said one. " He's a slick and wily cur." 

So much reputation came to the young mariner — 
at this exploit — that he was soon offered the com- 
mand of the Emilie: a privateer of one hundred and 
eighty tons and four guns. He accepted with glee, 
but when about to go to sea, the Governor refused 
him Letters of Marque. 

"What shall I do?" asked the crest-fallen Rob- 
ert, approaching the owners of the trim and able 
craft. 

" Sail for the Seychelles (Islands off the east coast 
of Africa) for a cargo of turtles," said they. "If you 
fail to find these ; fill up with corn, cotton and fruit. 
Fight shy of all English cruisers, and battle if you 
have to." 

Surcouf bowed. 

" I am not a regular privateer," he answered. " For 
I have no Letters of Marque. But I can defend myself 
if fired upon, and am an armed vessel in war-time. I 
may yet see some fighting." 

He was not tO' be disappointed. 

While at anchor at the Seychelles, two large and fat 



332 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

English men-of-war appeared in the offing. Surcouf 
had to run for it. 

Steering in among the many httle islets, which here 
abound, he navigated the dangerous channels and got 
safely off, his men crying, 

" Voila ! Here is a genius. We did well to ship 
with such a master! " 

But the gallant Surcouf soon turned from privateer 
to pirate. 

South of the Bay of Bengal, a cyclone struck the 
Emilic and she was steered for Rangoon, where — 

" The flying fishes play, 
An' the dawn comes up like thunder. 
Outer China across the Bay." 

And here a British vessel steered for her : white- 
winged, saucy, vindictive-looking. 

She came on valiantly, and, when within a hun- 
dred yards, pumped a shot across the bow of the 
drowsing Emilic. It meant " Show your colors." 

Hoisting the red, white and blue of France, Sur- 
couf replied with three scorching shots. One struck 
the Britisher amid-ships, and pumped a hole in her 
black boarding. 

Like a timid girl, the Englishman veered off, 
hoisted her top-sail, and tried to get away. She saw 
that she had caught a tartar. 

The blood was up of the " Man from St. Malo." " I 
consider the shot across my bows as an attack," said 
he, and he slapped on every stitch of canvas, so that 
the Emilic was soon abreast of the Britisher. Boom! 



ROBERT SURCOUF 333 

A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors. 
Bold Robert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon, — he 
had seen the English flag lowered to him, for the first 
time; and his heart swelled with patriotic pride, in 
spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy, for 
which he could be hanged to the yard-arm. 

"On! On!" cried Surcouf. "More captures! 
More prizes ! " 

Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into 
his hands, — one of which, — a pilot-brig — was ap- 
propriated in place of the Emilic, which had a foul, 
barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The D'una, 
another rice-carrier — was also captured — and Rob- 
ert Surcouf headed for the Mauritius: pleased and 
happy. 

A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off 
the river Hooghly, the cry came : 

" A large sail standing into Balasore Roads ! " 

In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his 
keen and searching eye. 

" An East Indiaman," said he. " And rich. I'll 
warrant. Ready about and make after her. She's too 
strong for us, — that I see — but we may outwit 
her." 

The vessel, in fact, was the Triton, with six-and- 
twenty guns and a strong crew. Surcouf had but 
nineteen men aboard, including the surgeon and him- 
self, and a few Lascars, — natives. The odds were 
heavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant. 

" My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the 
pilot flag! " he cried. 



334 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze, 
the Triton hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspect- 
ing as could be. Surcouf chuckled. 

Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling 
Indiaman, and, as she rolled within hailing distance, 
the bold French sea-dog saw " bcaiicoup dc niondc " — 
a great crowd of people — upon the deck of the Eng- 
lishman. 

" ]\Iy lads ! " cried he, turning to his crew. " This 
Triton is very strong. We are only nineteen. Shall 
we try to take her by surprise and thus acquire both 
gain and glory ? Or, do you prefer to rot in a beastly 
English prison-ship?" 

" Death or victory ! " cried the Frenchmen. 

Surcouf smiled. 

" This ship .shall either be our tomb, or the cradle 
of our glory," said he. " It is well ! " 

The crew and passengers of the Triton saw only a 
pilot-brig approaching, as these did habitually (to 
within twenty or thirty feet) in order to transfer the 
pilot. Suddenly a few uttered exclamations of surprise 
and dismay. The French colors rose to the mast of 
the sorrowful-looking pilot-boat, and with a flash and 
a roar, a heavy dose of canister and grape ploughed 
into the unsuspecting persons upon the deck of the 
Indiaman. Many sought shelter from the hail of 
iron. 

A moment more, and the brig was alongside. A 
crunching; a splitting of timber as the privateer struck 
and ground into the bulwarks of the Triton, and, with 
a wild yell — Surcouf leaped upon the deck of his 



ROBERT SURCOUF 335 

adversary — followed by his eighteen men, with cut- 
lass, dirks and pistols. 

There was but little resistance. The Captain of 
the Triton seized a sword and made a vain attempt to 
stem the onslaught of the boarders, but he was imme- 
diately cut down. The rest were driven below, and 
the hatches clapped tight above them. In five minutes 
the affair was over, with five killed and six wounded 
upon the side of the English : one killed and one 
wounded among the French. Surcouf had made a 
master stroke. The Triton was his own. 

The many prisoners were placed on board the Diana 
and allowed to make their way to Calcutta, but the 
Triton was triumphantly steered to the Mauritius, 
where Surcouf received a tremendous ovation. 

" Hurrah for Robert Surcouf : the sea-hound from 
St. Malo ! " shrieked the townsfolk. 

" Your captures are all condemned," said the Gov- 
ernor of the island, a few days after his triumphant 
arrival. " For you sailed and fought not under a 
Letter of Marque, so you are a pirate and not a pri- 
vateer. Those who go a-pirating must pay the piper. 
Your prizes belong to the Government of France, and 
its representative. I hereby seize them." 

Surcouf was nonplussed. 

" We will take this matter to France, itself," cried 
he. " And we shall see whether or no all my exertions 
shall go for nought." 

So the case was referred to the French courts, where 
Robert appeared in person to plead his cause. And 
the verdict was : 



336 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" The captures of Captain Robert Surcouf of St. 
Malo are all declared ' good prize ' and belong- to him 
and the owners of his vessel." 

So the wild man from St. Malo was very happy, and 
he and his owners pocketed a good, round sum of 
money. But he really was a pirate and not a privateer. 
Tcnez! He had the money, at any rate, so why should 
he care ? 

The remaining days of Robert's life were full of 
battle, and, just a little love, for he returned to his 
native town — during the progress of the law-suit — 
in order to see his family and his friends, and there 
became engaged to Mile. Marie Blaize, who was as 
good as she was pretty. But the sea sang a song which 
ran : 

" For men must work and women must weep, 
The home of a hero is on the deep." 

which the stout sea-dog could not resist. So he left 
the charming demoiselle wMthout being married, and 
'tis said that she wept bitterly. 

Now came his greatest exploit. 

On October 7th, 1800. the hardy mariner — in com- 
mand of the Confiance; a new vessel with one hundred 
and thirty souls aboard — was cruising off the Indian 
coast. He had a Letter of Marque this time, so all 
would go well with him if he took a prize. The oppor- 
tunity soon came. A sail was sighted early that 
day, and Surcouf scanned her carefully through his 
glass. 

" She's a rich prize," said he. '' An Indiaman. All 




SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS.' 



ROBERT SURCOUF 337 

hands on deck. Make sail ! Drinks all round for the 
men! Clear for action! " 

He spoke this to himself, for he was aloft, and, 
climbing to the deck, ordered everybody aft to listen 
to a speech. When they had collected there, he said, 
with feeling : 

" I suppose each one of you is more than equal to 
one Englishman ? Very good — be armed and ready 
for boarding — and, as it is going to be hot work, I'll 
give you one hour for pillage. You can fight, and, 
behind me, you should be invincible ! Strike, and strike 
hard; and you will be rich." 

The Kent had four hundred and thirty-seven souls 
aboard, says an old chronicler, for she had picked up 
a great part of the crew of the Queen: an East India- 
man which had been destroyed off the coast of Brazil. 
Her Captain's name was Rivington and he was a fellow 
of heroic courage. 

As the Confiance drew near, the crew of the English- 
man gave her a fair broadside and pumped gun after 
gun into her hull. But the Frenchman held her fire, 
and bore in close, in order to grapple. Hoarse shouts 
sounded above the roar of the guns and the splitting 
of timber, as the two war-dogs closed for action. The 
crew of the Kent were poorly armed and undisciplined : 
they had never fought together. With Surcouf it was 
far different. His sailors were veterans — they had 
boarded many a merchantman and privateer before — 
and, they were well used to this gallant pastime. Be- 
sides, each had a boarding-axe, a cutlass, — pistol and 
a dagger — to say nothing of a blunderbuss loaded 



338 FAMOUS PRIYATEERSMEN 

with six bullets, pikes fifteen ffeet long, and enormous 
clubs — all of this with "drinks all round" and the 
promise of pillage. No w-onder they could fight! 

With a wild, ear-splitting whoop the wild men of 
the French privateer finally leaped over the rail — upon 
the deck of the Englishman — and there was fierce 
struggling for possession of her. At the head of his 
men, Rivington fought like a true Briton, — cutlass in 
hand, teeth clinched, eyes to the front. He was mag- 
nificent. 

But what could one man do against many ? 

Back, back, the French forced the valiant lion, while 
his crew fell all about in tiers, and, at length, they 
drove him to the poop. He was bleeding from many 
a wound. He was fast sinking. 

" Don't give up the ship! " he cried, casting his eye 
aloft at the red ensign of his country. 

Then he fell upon his face, and the maddened fol- 
lowers of Surcouf swept over the decking like followers 
of Attila, the terrible Hun. 

" Spare the women ! " shouted the French Captain 
above the din and roar of battle. " Pillage ; but spare 
the women ! " 

It was well that he had spoken, for his cut-throats 
were wild with the heat of battle. In twenty minutes 
the Kent was helpless ; her crew were prisoners ; and 
the saucy pennon of France fluttered where once had 
waved the proud ensign of Great Britain. 

Surcouf was happy. Landing the English prisoners 
in an Arab vessel, he arrived at the Mauritius with his 
prize in November, and soon took his doughty Con- 



ROBEET SURCOUF 339 

fiance to the low shores of France, catching a Portu- 
guese merchant en route, and anchoring at La 
Rochelle, on April 13th, 1801. 

Rich, famous, respected; he now married the good 
Mile. Marie Blaize, and became the owner of priva- 
teers and a respected citizen of the Fatherland. For- 
tune had favored this brave fellow. 

As a prosperous ship-owner and ship-builder of his 
native village — "the Sea-Hound of St. Malo " — 
closed his adventurous life in the year 1827. And 
when he quietly passed away, the good housewives 
used to mutter: 

" Look you ! Here was a man who fought the Eng- 
lish as well as they themselves could fight. He was 
a true son of William the Conqueror. Look you! 
This was a King of the Ocean ! " 

And the gulls wheeled over the grave of the doughty 
sea-warrior, shrieking, 

"He-did-it! He-did-it! He-did-it!" 



THE CRY FROM THE SHORE 

Come down, ye greyhound mariners, 

Unto the wasting shore ! 

The morning winds are up, — the Gods 

Bid me to dream no more. 

Come, tell me whither I must sail, 

What peril there may be, 

Before I take my life in hand 

And venture out to sea ! 

We may not lell thcc 7vhcre to sail, 

Nor what the dangers are; 

Each sailor soundeth for himself. 

Each hath a separate star; 

Each sailor soundeth for himself, 

And on the aivful sea. 

What we have learned is ours alone; 

We may not tell it thee. 

Come back, O ghostly mariners, 

Ye who have gone before ! 

I dread the dark, tempestuous tides ; 

I dread the farthest shore. 

Tell me the secret of the waves; 

Say what my fate shall be, — 

Quick ! for the mighty winds are up. 

And will not wait for me. 

Hail and farewell, O voyager! 

Thyself must read the zvaves; 

JVhat we have learned of sun and storm 

Lies zvith us in our graves; 

What we have learned of sun and storm 

Is ours alone to know. 

The zmnds are blozinng out to sea, 

Take up thy life and go! 



LAFITTE 

PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF 

THE GULF OF MEXICO 

(1780- 1826) 



" For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest, 
Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum." 

— Stevenson. 



LAFITTE 

PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF 

THE GULF OF MEXICO 

, (1780- 1826) 

"He was the mildest mannered man, 
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat ; 
With such true breeding of a gentleman, 
That you could ne'er discern his proper thought. 
Pity he loved an adventurous life's variety, 
He was so great a loss to good society." 

— Old Ballad. — iSio. 

« y^>|APTAIN, we can't live much longer unless 

I . we have food. We've got enough to last 

us for two weeks' time, and then — if we 

do not get fresh provisions — we'll have to eat the 

sails." 

The fellow who spoke was a rough-looking sea-dog, 
with a yellow face — parched and wrinkled by many 
years of exposure — a square figure ; a red handker- 
chief tied about his black hair; a sash about his waist 
in which was stuck a brace of evil-barrelled pistols. 
He looked grimly at the big-boned man before him. 

"Yes. You are right, as usual, Gascon. We've 
got to strike a foreign sail before the week is out, and 
capture her. And I, Lafitte, must turn from privateer 
to pirate. May my good mother at St. Malo have 
mercy on my soul." 

343 



341 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

And, so saying, he turned to pace restlessly upon the 
sloping deck of the two-hundred-ton barque which 
boiled along under a spread of bellying canvas, and 
was guided by the keen eye of this youthful mariner. 
He came from the same little town in France which 
sheltered the good mother of Du Guay Trouin, the 
great French " blue." His name was Jean Lafitte. 

This sea-rover had been born in 1781, and had t^ken 
to the ocean at the age of thirteen, when most boys are 
going to boarding-school. After several voyages in 
Europe, and to the coast of Africa, he was appointed 
mate of a French East Indiaman, bound to Madras in 
India. But things did not go any too well with the 
sturdy ship; a heavy gale struck her off the Cape of 
Good Hope ; she sprung her mainmast, and — flop- 
ping along like a huge sea-turtle — staggered into the 
port of St. Thomas in the island of Mauritius, off the 
east coast of Africa. 

" Here," said young Lafitte to his Captain, " is 
where I leave you, for you are a bully, a braggart, and 
a knave." 

And, so saying, he cut for shore in the jollv-boat, 
but — if the truth must be known — Lafitte and the 
Captain were too much alike to get on together. They 
both wished to " be boss." Like magnets do not at- 
tract, but repel. 

Luck was with the young deserter. Several priva- 
teers were being fitted out at the safe port of St. 
Thomas and he was appointed Captain of one of them. 
Letters of Marque were granted by the Governor of 
the Mauritius. 



LAFITTE 345 

''All ha!" cried the youthful adventurer. "Now 
I can run things to suit myself. And I'll grow 
rich." 

This he speedily succeeded in doing, for, in the 
course of his cruise, he robbed several vessels which 
came in his path, and, stopping at the Seychelles 
(Islands off the eastern coast of Africa), took on a 
load of slaves for the port of St. Thomas. Thus he 
had descended — not only to piracy — but also to 
slave catching; the lowest depths to which a seaman 
could come down. 

When four days out from the curiously named 
islands, a cry went up from the watch, 

" Sail ho ! Off the port bow ! A British frigate, by 
much that's good, and she's after us with all speed ! " 

To which bold Lafitte answered, " Then, we must 
run for it ! " But he hoisted every bit of canvas which 
he had about and headed for the Bay of Bengal. 
" And," said he, " if she does not catch us and we get 
away, we'll take an English merchantman and burn 
her." Then he laughed satirically. 

The British frigate plodded along after the lighter 
vessel of Lafitte's until the Equator was reached, and 
then she disappeared, — disgruntled at not being able 
to catch the saucy tartar. But the privateersman 
headed for the blue Bay of Bengal ; there fell in with 
an English armed schooner with a numerous crew; 
and — although he only had two guns and twenty-six 
men aboard his own vessel — he tackled the sailors 
from the chilly isle like a terrier shaking a rat. There 
was a stiff little fight upon the shimmering waves of 



346 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

the Indian Ocean. When night descended the Brit- 
isher had struck and nineteen blood-stained ruffians 
from the privateer took possession of the battered hulk, 
singing a song which ran : 

" For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest, 
Yo-Ho-Ho- and a bottle of rum." 

Lafitte was now feeling better; his men had been 
fed; he had good plunder; and he possessed two 
staunch, little craft. 

" Let's bear away for India, my Hearties," cried he, 
" and we'll hit another Englishman and take her." 

What he had said soon came to pass, for, when off 
the hazy, low-lying coast of Bengal, a rakish East 
Indiaman came lolling by, armed with twenty-six 
twelve-pounders and manned with one hundred and 
fifty men. A bright boarding upon her stern-posts 
flaunted the truly Eastern name : the Pagoda. 

The dull-witted Britishers had no suspicions of the 
weak, Puritan-looking, little two-'undred tonner of 
Lafitte's, as she glided in close; luffed; and bobbed 
about, as a voice came : 

" Sa-a-y! Want a pilot fer the Ganges? " 

There was no reply for a while. Then a voice 
shrilled back, 

" Come up on th' port quarter. That's just what 
we've been lookin' for." 

The fat Pagoda ploughed listlessly onward, as the 
unsuspicious-looking pilot plodded up on the port side; 
in fact, most of the crew were dozing comfortably 
under awnings on the deck, when a shot rang out. An- 



LAFITTE 347 

other and another followed, and, with a wild, ear- 
splitting whoop, the followers of Lafitte clambered 
across the rail; dirks in their mouths; pistols in their 
right hands, and cutlasses in their left. 

Now was a short and bloodless fight. Taken com- 
pletely by surprise, the Englishmen threw up their 
hands and gave in only too willingly. With smiles of 
satisfaction upon their faces, the seamen of the bad 
man from St. Malo soon hauled two kegs of spirits 
u^xDn the decks, and held high revel upon the clean 
boarding of the rich and valuable prize. The Pagoda 
was re-christened The Pride of St. Malo, and soon 
went off privateering upon her own hook; while La- 
fitte headed back for St. Thomas : well-fed — even 
sleek with good living — and loaded down with the 
treasure which he had taken. " Ah-ha ! " cried the 
black-haired navigator. " I am going to be King of 
the Indian waters." 

Now came the most bloody and successful of his 
battles upon the broad highway of the gleaming, 
southern ocean. 

Taking command of the La Confidence of twenty-six 
guns and two hundred and fifty men, whom he found 
at the port of St. Thomas, he again headed for the 
coast of British India; keen in the expectation of 
striking a valuable prize. And his expectations were 
well fulfilled. 

In October, 1807, the welcome cry of " Sail Ho! " 
sounded from the forward watch, when off the Sand 
Heads, and there upon the starboard bow was a spot 
of white, which proved to be a Queen's East India- 



348 FAMOUS PRIVATEEESMEN 

man, with a crew of near four hundred. She carried 
forty guns. 

There were double the number of cannon, there 
were double the number of men, but Lajfitte cried out : 

" I came out to fight and I'm going to do it, com- 
rades ! You see before you a vessel which is stronger 
than our own, but, with courage and nerve, we can 
beat her. I will run our own ship close to the enemy. 
You must lie down behind the protecting sides of our 
vessel until we touch the stranger. Then — when I 
give the signal to board — let each man seize a cut- 
lass, a dirk, and two pistols, and strike down all that 
oppose him. We must and can win! " 

These stirring words were greeted by a wild and 
hilarious cheer. 

Now, running upon the port tack, the La Confidence 
bore down upon the Britisher with the water boiling 
under her bows; while the stranger luffed, and pre- 
pared for action. Shrill cries sounded from her huge 
carcass as her guns were loaded and trained upon the 
oncoming foe, while her masts began to swarm with 
sharpshooters eager to pick off the ravenous sea-dogs 
from the Mauritius. 

Suddenly a terrific roar sounded above the rattle 
of ropes and creak of hawsers — and a broadside cut 
into the La Confidence with keen accuracy. 

" Lie flat upon the deck," cried Lafitte, " and dodge 
the iron boys if you can see 'em." 

His men obeyed, and, as the missiles pounded into 
the broad sides of their ship, the steersman ran her 
afoul of the Queen's East Indiaman. ^Vhen he did 



LAFITTE 349 

so, many sailors swarmed into the rigging, and from 
the yards and tops threw bombs and grenades into die 
forecastle of the enemy, so that death and terror made 
the Britishers abandon the portion of their vessel near 
the mizzen-mast. 

" Forty of the crew will now board," cried Lafitte. 
" And let every mother's son strike home ! " 

With pistols in their hands and daggers held be- 
tween their teeth, the wild sea-rovers rollicked across 
the gun-whales like a swarm of rats. Dancing up the 
deck of the Britisher they beat back all who opposed 
them, driving them below into the steerage. Shots 
rang out like spitting cats; dirks gleamed; and cut- 
lasses did awful execution. But the Captain of the 
Indiaman was rallying his men about him on the poop, 
and, with a wild cheer, these precipitated themselves 
upon the victorious privateers. 

"Board! Board!" cried Lafitte, at this propitious 
moment, and, cutlass in hand, he leaped from his own 
vessel upon the deck of the East Indiaman. His crew 
followed with a yelp of defiant hatred, and beat the 
Captain's party back again upon the poop, where they 
stood stolidly, cursing at the rough sea-riders from 
St. Thomas. 

But Lafitte was a general not to be outdone by such 
a show of force. He ordered a gun to be loaded with 
grape-shot; had it pointed towards the place where 
the crowd was assembled ; and cried — 

" If you don't give in now, I'll exterminate all of 
you at one discharge of my piece." 

It was the last blow. Seeing that it was useless to 



350 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

continue the unequal struggle, the British Captain 
held up his long cutlass, to which was bound a white 
handkerchief, and the great sea battle was over. La- 
fitte and his terrible crew had captured a boat of double 
the size of his own, and with twice his numbers. 

Says an old chronicler of the period : " This exploit, 
hitherto unparalleled, resounded through India, and 
the name of Lafitte became the terror of English com- 
merce in these latitudes. The British vessels now 
traversed the Indian Ocean under strong convoys, in 
order to beat off this harpy of South Africa." 

" Egad," said Lafitte about this time, " these fel- 
lows are too smart for me. I'll have to look for other 
pickings. I'm off for France." 

So he doubled the Cape of Good Hope, coasted up 
the Gulf of Guinea, and, in the Bight of Benin, took 
two valuable prizes loaded down with gold dust, ivory, 
and palm oil. With these he ran to St. Malo, where 
the people said : 

" Tenez ! Here is a brave fellow, but would you 
care to have his reputation. Monsieur ? " And they 
shook their heads, shrugged their shoulders, and 
looked the other way when they saw him coming. 

The privateersman, slaver, and pirate was not going 
to be long with them, however, for he soon fitted out 
a brigantine, mounted twenty guns on her, and with 
one hundred and fifty men, sailed for Guadaloupe, 
among the West Indies. He took several valuable 
prizes, but, during his absence upon a cruise, the island 
was captured by the British, so he started for a more 
congenial clime. He roved about for some months, 



LAPITTE 351 

to settle at last at Barrataria, near New Orleans, 
Louisiana. He was rich ; he had amassed great quan- 
tities of booty; and he was a man of property. La- 
fitte, in fact, was a potentate. 

" Now," said the privateer and pirate, " I will settle 
down and found a colony." 

But can a man of action keep still? 

It is true that Lafitte was not as bold and audacious 
as before, for he was now obliged to have dealings 
with merchants of the United States and the West 
Indies who frequently owed him large sums of money, 
and the cautious transactions necessary to found and 
to conduct a colony of pirates and smugglers in the 
very teeth of civilization, made the black-haired 
Frenchman cloak his real character under a veneer of 
supposed gentility. Hundreds of privateers, pirates, 
and smugglers gathered around the banner of this 
robber of the high seas. 

But what is Barrataria? 

Part of the coast of Louisiana is called by that 
name : that part lying between Bastien Bay on the 
east, and the mouth of the wide river, or bayou of 
La Fourche, on the west. Not far from the rolling, 
sun-baked Atlantic are the lakes of Barrataria, connect- 
ing with one another by several large bayous and a 
great number of branches. In one of these is the 
Island of Barrataria, while this sweet-sounding name 
is also given to a large basin which extends the entire 
length of the cypress swamps, from the Gulf of 
Mexico, to a point three miles above New Orleans. 
The waters from this lake slowly empty into the Gulf 



352 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

by two passages through the Bayou Barrataria, be- 
tween which Hes an island cahed Grand Terre : six 
miles in length, and three in breadth, running parallel 
with the coast. To the West of this is the great pass 
of Barrataria, where is about nine to ten feet of water : 
enough to float the ordinary pirate or privateersman's 
vessel. Within this pass — about two miles from the 
open sea — lies the only safe harbor upon the coast, 
and this is where the cut-throats, pirates, and smug- 
glers gathered under Lafitte. They called themselves 
Barratarians, and they were a godless crew. 

At a place called Grand Terre, the privateers would 
often make public sale of their cargoes and prizes by 
auction. And the most respectable inhabitants of the 
State were accustomed to journey there in order to 
purchase the goods which the Barratarians had to 
offer. They would smile, and say, 

" We are going to get some of the treasure of 
Captain Kidd." 

But the Government of the United States did not 
take so kindly to the idea of a privateer and pirate 
colony within its borders. And — with malice afore- 
thought — one Commodore Patterson was sent to dis- 
perse these marauders at Barrataria, who, confident 
of their strength and fighting ability, defiantly flaunted 
their flag in the faces of the officers of the Govern- 
ment. " We can lick the whole earth," chuckled the 
piratical followers of Lafitte. 

Patterson was a good fighter. On June the eleventh 
he departed from New Orleans with se\^enty members 
of the 44th regiment of infantry. On the sixteenth 



LAFITTE 353 

he made for the Island of Barrataria, with some six 
gun-boats, a launch mounting one twelve pound car- 
ronade; the Sea Horse (a tender carrying one six- 
pounder) and the schooner Carolina. 

" We must fight, Boys," cried Lafitte to his ill- 
assorted mates. " Come, take to our schooners and 
show these officers that the followers of Lafitte can 
battle like Trojans." 

A cheer greeted these noble sentiments. 

" Lead on ! " yelled his cut-throats. " Lead on and 
we'll sink these cocky soldiers as we've done to many 
an East Indiaman ! " 

So, about two o'clock in the afternoon, the priva- 
teers and pirates formed their vessels, ten in number 
(including their prizes) near the entrance of the 
harbor. 

Crash ! 

A shell from the forward gun of the leading gun- 
boat spun across the bows of Lafitte's flagship and 
buried itself in the gray water with a dull sob. 

Up went a huge whit© flag upon the foremost mast- 
head of the king pirate and these words could be 
plainly seen : 

" Pardon for all Deserters." 

" Ah. ha," chuckled Patterson. " The arch ruffian 
has heard that some of my men are ashore and this 
Is the way he would hire them." 

Crash ! 

Another shell ricochetted across the still surface 
of the harbor and sunk itself in the side of a piratical 
brig. 



354 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" Hello ! " cried a Lieutenant, running up to the 
United States Commander. " They're giving up al- 
ready. See! The beggars are hastening ashore in 
order to skip into the woods." 

" I'm afraid so," answered the disappointed Com- 
modore. " All my pains for nothing. The fellows 
are getting away." 

Sure enough — afraid to remain and fight it out — 
the craven followers of Lafitte now turned their 
schooners to the shore — ran their bows into the sand, 
and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast 
as their legs could carry them. Thus — without firing 
a shot — the cowardly pirates of Barrataria " took to 
the bush." 

" The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty 
pieces of cannon of different calibre." wrote Patterson, 
after this tame affair. " And, as I have since learnt, 
they had from eight hundred to one thousand men of 
all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates 
forming their vessels into a line of battle I felt con- 
fident, from their fleet and very advantageous position, 
and their number of men, that they would have fought 
me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I 
should have been enabled more effectually to destroy 
or make prisoners of them and their leaders; but it 
is a subject of great satisfaction to me, to have effected 
the object of my enterprise, without the loss of a man. 
On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with 
my whole squadron, in all seventecfn vessels, but dur- 
ing the night one escaped and the next day I arrived 
at New Orleans with my entire command." 



LAFITTE 355 

Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the 
vainglorious Lafitte to stem the advance of the Gov- 
ernment of the United States. In the parlance of the 
camp, " He was a fust-class quitter." 

But he did not show himself to be a " quitter " in 
the battle of New Orleans. 

The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at 
each other's throats in the ungentle game of war. At 
different times the British had sought to attack the 
pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking their 
prizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 181 3, while 
two of Lafitte's privateers were lying to off of Cat 
Island, an English sloop-of-war came to anchor at 
the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats in the 
endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they 
were repulsed with severe and galling loss. 

On the 2nd of September, 18 14, an armed brig 
appeared on the coast, opposite the famous pass to the 
home of the rangers of the sea. She fired a gun at a 
smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke her 
nose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came 
to anchor at the entrance to the shallows. 

" That vessel means business, sure," said one of the 
pirates to Lafitte. " She has spouted one gun, but now 
she's lyin' to. Better see what's up." 

" You're right," answered the famous sea-rover. 
" We'll go off in a boat and look out for what's going 
to happen." 

So, starting from the shore, he was soon on his way 
to tlie brig, from which a pinnace was lowered, in 
which could be seen two officers, one of whom had a 



356 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

flag of truce. The two boats rapidly neared each 
other. 

" Where is Mr. Lafitte? " cried one of the Britishers, 
as the pinnace neared the shore. " I would speak with 
the Laird of Barrataria." 

But Lafitte was not anxious to make himself known. 

" He's ashore," said he. " But, if you have com- 
munications for him, these I can deliver." 

" Pray, give him these packages, my good man," 
spoke the English tar, handing him a bundle of letters, 
tied up in" tarpaulin. 

Lafitte smiled. 

" I would be delighted to do so," he replied. " But, 
pray come ashore and there I will return you your an- 
swer after I have seen the great Captain, who is camp- 
ing about a league inland." 

The Britishers readily assented, and both rowed 
towards the sandy beach, where a great number of 
pirates of Barrataria had collected. 

As soon as the boats were in shallow water, Lafitte 
made himself known to the English, saying: 

" Do not let my men know upon what business you 
come, for it will go ill with you. My followers know 
that war is now on between Great Britain and 
the United States, and, if they hear you are 
making overtures with me, they will wish to hang 
you." 

It was as he had said. When the Englishmen 
landed, a great cry went up amongst the privateers, 
pirates and smugglers : 

" Hang the spies ! Kill the dirty dogs ! To the yard- 



LAFITTE 357 

arm with the rascally Englishmen! Send the hounds 
to New Orleans and to jail ! " 

But Lafitte dissuaded the multitude from their intent 
and led the officers in safety to his dwelling, where he 
opened the package, finding a proclamation addressed 
to the inhabitants of Louisiana, by Col. Edward 
Nichalls — British commander of the land forces in 
this state — requesting them to come under the shelter- 
ing arm of the British Government. There were also 
two letters to himself, asking him to join and fight 
with the English. 

" If you will but battle with us," said Captain 
Lockyer — one of the British officers — " wc will 
give you command of a forty-four gun frigate, and 
will make you a Post Captain. You will also receive 
thirty thousand dollars, — payable at Pensacola." 

Lafitte looked dubiously at him. 

" I will give answer in a few days," he replied, with 
courtesy. 

" You are a Frenchman," continued the British Cap- 
tain. " You are not in the service of the United States, 
nor likely to be. Come — man — give us a reply at 
once." 

Captain Lafitte was obdurate, for — strange as it 
may seem — he wished to inform the officers of the 
State Government of this project of the English. So 
he withdrew to his own hut. 

As he did this, the pirates seized the British officers, 
dragged them to a cabin, and thrust them inside. A 
guard was stationed at the door, while cries went up 
from every quarter : 



358 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" To New Orleans with the scoundrels ! A yard- 
arm for the butchers! A rope's end for the scurvy 
tars!" 

Lafitte was furious when he learned of this, and, 
after haranguing the crowd, had the Britishers re- 
leased. 

'* If you treat men under a flag of truce as pris- 
oners," he cried, " you break one of the first rules of 
warfare. You will get the same treatment if you, 
yourselves, are captured, and you will lose the oppor- 
tunity of discovering what are the projects of the 
British upon Louisiana." 

His men saw the good sense of these words of 
advice, and acted accordingly. 

Early the next morning the officers were escorted 
to their pinnace with many apologies from Lafitte, who 
now wrote a letter to Captain Lockyer, which shows 
him to have been a man of considerable cultivation, 
and not a mere " rough and tumble " pirate — without 
education or refinement. He said : 

" Barrataria, 4th Sept., 1814. 
" To Captain Lockyer, 

" Sir : — The confusion which prevailed in our 
camp yesterday and this morning, and of which you 
have a complete knowledge, has prevented me from, 
answering in a precise manner to the. object of your 
mission ; nor even at this moment can I give you all 
the satisfaction that you desire. However, if you could 
grant me a fortnight, I would be entirely at your dis- 
posal at the end of that time. 



LAFITTE 359 

" This delay is indispensable to enable me to put my 
affairs in order. You may communicate with me by 
sending a boat to the Eastern point of the pass, where 
I will be found. You have inspired me with more con- 
fidence than the Admiral — your superior ot^cer — 
could have done, himself. With you alone I wish to 
deal, and from you, also, I will claim in due time, the 
reward of the services which I may render you. 
" Your very respectful servant, 

" J. Lafitte." 

His object in writing this letter — you see — was, 
by appearing to accede to the proposals, to give time to 
communicate the affair to the officers of the State Gov- 
ernment of Louisiana and to receive from them in- 
structions how to act, under circumstances so critical 
and important to his own country : that is, the country 
of his adoption. 

He, therefore, addressed the following epistle to the 
Governor of Louisiana. Do you think that you, your- 
self, could write as well as did this pirate? 

" Barrataria, Sept. 4th, 18 14. 
"To Governor Claiborne: 

" Sir : — In the firm persuasion that the choice made 
of you to fill the office of first magistrate of this State, 
was dictated by the esteem of your fellow citizens, and 
was conferred on merit, I confidently address you on an 
affair on which may depend the safety of this country. 

" I offer to you to restore to this State several citi- 
zens, who perhaps, in your eyes, have lost that sacred 



360 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

title. I offer you them, however, such as you could 
wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost efforts 
in the defence of the country. 

" This point of Louisiana, which I occupy, is of great 
importance in the present crisis. I tender my services 
to defend it; and the only reward I ask is that a stop 
be put to the proscription against me and my adherents, 
by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done here- 
tofore. 

" I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold. 

" If you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature 
of my offences, I should appear to you much less guilty, 
and still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citi- 
zen. I have never sailed under any flag but the repub- 
lic of Carthagena, and my vessels were perfectly regu- 
lar in that respect. 

" If I could have brought my lawful prizes into the 
ports of this State, I should not have employed illicit 
means that have caused me to be proscribed (hounded 
by the State authorities). 

" I decline to say more upon this subject until I have 
your Excellency's answer, which I am persuaded can 
be dictated only by wisdom. Should your ansSver not 
be favorable to my ardent desire, I declare to you that 
I will instantly leave the country, to avoid the imputa- 
tion of having cooperated towards an invasion on this 
point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest secure 
in the acquittal of my conscience. 

" I have the honor to be, 

" Your Excellency's Most Humble Servant. 

" J. Lafitte." 



LAFITTE 361 

Now how is that for a swashbuckHng privateer? 
Anyone would be proud of such a letter and it does 
honor to the judgment of this sand-spit king, giving 
clear evidence of a strange but sincere attachment to 
the American cause. Hurrah for the Frenchman! 

This missive, in fact, made such an impression upon 
the Governor that he had an interview with Lafitte, 
who was ushered into his presence only to find General 
Andrew Jackson (Old Hickory) closeted with the chief 
executive. 

" My dear sir," said the effusive Governor. " Your 
praiseworthy wishes shall be laid before the council of 
the State, and I will confer with my august friend, here 
present, upon this important affair, and send you an 
answer." 

Bowing low, the courteous privateersman withdrew. 

" Farewell," cried Old Hickory after his retreating 
form. " When we meet again I trust that it will be 
in the ranks of the American Army." 

And in two days' time appeared the following procla- 
mation : 

" The Governor of Louisiana, informed that many 
individuals implicated in the offences hitherto com- 
mitted against the United States at Barrataria, ex- 
press a willingness at the present crisis to enroll them- 
selves and march against the enemy. 

" He does hereby invite them to join the standard 
of the United States, and is authorized to say, should 
their conduct in the field meet the approbation of the 
Major General, that that officer will unite with the 
Governor in a request to the President of the United 



362 FAMOUS PEIYATEERSMEN 

States, to extend to each and every individual, so 
marching and acting, a free and full pardon." 

When Lafitte saw these words, he fairly yelled with 
delight, and it is said that he jumped into the air, 
cracking his heels three times together before he struck 
the ground. 

The orders were circulated among his followers and 
most of them readily embraced the pardon which they 
held out. Thus — in a few days — many brave men 
and skillful artillerists flocked to the red-white-and- 
blue standard of the United States. And when — a 
few months afterwards — Old Hickory and his men 
were crouched behind a line of cotton bales, awaiting 
the attack of a British army (heroes, in fact, of Sar- 
gossa), there, upon the left flank, was the sand-spit 
King and his evil crew. Lafitte's eyes were sparkling 
like an electric bulb, and the language of his followers 
does not bear repetition. 

It was the morning of January eighth. The British 
were about to attack the American Army defending 
New Orleans, which — under the leadership of stout 
Andrew Jackson — now crouched behind the earth- 
works and cotton bales, some miles from the city. 
Rockets shot into the air with a sizzling snap. The 
roar of cannon shook the thin palmettos, and wild 
British cheers came from the lusty throats of the 
British veterans of Spain, as they advanced to 
the assault in close order — sixty men in front — 
with fascines and ladders for scaling the defences. 
Now a veritable storm of rockets hissed and sizzed 
into the American lines, while a light battery of artil- 



LAFITTE 363 

lery pom-pomed and growled upon the left flank. All 
was silence in the dun-colored embankments. 

But look! Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from 
the earthworks where lay the buck-skin-clad rangers 
from Tennessee and Kentucky : men who had fought 
Indians; had cleared the forest for their rude log huts, 
and were able to hit the eye of a squirrel at one hun- 
dred yards. Crash! Crash! Crash! A flame of fire 
burst through the pall of sulphurous smoke, a storm of 
leaden missiles swept into the red coats of the advan- 
cing British, and down they fell in wind-rows, like 
wheat before the reaper. Boom! Boom! Boom! The 
cannon growled and spat from the cotton bales, and 
one of these — a twenty- four pounder — placed upon 
the third embrasure from the river, from the fatal 
skill and activity with which it was managed (even in 
the best of battle), — drew the admiration of both 
Americans and British. It became one of the points 
most dreaded by the advancing foe. Boom! Boom! 
It grumbled and roared its thunder, while Lafitte and 
his corsairs of Barrataria rammed home the iron 
charges, and — stripped to the waist — fought like 
wolves at bay. 

Two other batteries were manned by the Barrata- 
rians, who served their pieces with the steadiness and 
precision of veteran gunners. The enemy crept closer, 
ever closer, and a column pushed forward between the 
levee and the river so precipitously that the outposts 
were forced to retire, closely pressed by the coats of 
red. On, on, they came, and, clearing the ditch before 
the earthworks, gained the redoubt through the em- 



364 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

brasures, leaped over the parapet and quickly bay- 
onetted the small force of backwoodsmen who held 
this point. 

" To the rescue, men," cried Lafitte, at this junc- 
ture. " Out and at 'em ! " 

Cutlass in hand, the privateer called a few of his 
best followers to his side ; men who had often boarded 
the decks of an East Indiaman and were well used to 
hand-to-hand engagements. With a wild cheer they' 
leaped over the breastworks and rushed upon the 
enemy. 

The British were absolutely astonished at the in- 
trepidity of this advance. Pistols spat, cutlasses 
swung, and one after another, the English officers fell 
before the snapping blade of the King of Barrataria, as 
they bravely cheered on their men. The practiced 
boarders struck the red-coated columns with the same 
fierceness with which they had often bounded upon the 
deck of an enemy, and cheer after cheer welled above 
the rattle of arms as the advancing guardsmen were 
beaten back. All the energies of the British were con- 
centrated upon scaling the breastworks, which one 
daring officer had already mounted. But Lafitte and 
his followers, seconding a gallant band of volunteer 
riflemen, formed a phalanx which it was impossible to 
penetrate. They fought desperately. 

It was now late in the day. The field was strewn 
with the dead and dying. Still spat the unerring rifles 
of the pioneers and still crashed the unswerving volleys 
from their practiced rifles. " We cannot take the 
works," cried the British. " We must give up." And 



LAFITTE 365 

— turning about — they beat a sad and solemn 
retreat to their vessels. The great battle of New 
Orleans was over, and Lafitte had done a Trojan's 
share. 

In a few days peace was declared between the United 
States and Great Britain, and General Jackson — in 
his correspondence with the Secretary of War — did 
not fail to speak in the most flattering terms of the 
conduct of the " Corsairs of Barrataria." They had 
fought like tigers, and they had been sadly misjudged 
1)y the English, who wished to enlist them in their own 
cause. Their zeal, their courage, and their skill, were 
noticed by the whole American Army, who could no 
longer stigmatize such desperate fighters as " crim- 
inals." Many had been sabred and wounded in defence 
of New Orleans, and many had given up their lives 
before the sluggish bayous of the Mississippi. And 
now, Mr. Lafitte. it is high time that you led a decent 
life, for are you not a hero? 

But " murder will out," and once a privateer always 
a privateer, — and sometimes a pirate. 

Securing some fast sailing vessels, the King of 
Barrataria sailed to Galveston Bay, in 1819, where he 
received a commission from General Long as a " pri- 
vateer." Not content with living an honest and peace- 
ful life, he proceeded to do a little smuggling and 
illicit trading upon his own account, so it was not long 
before a United States cruiser was at anchor off the 
port to watch his movements. He was now Governor 
of Galveston, and considered himself to be a personage 
of great moment. Five vessels were generally cruising 



366 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

under his orders, while three hundred men obeyed his 
word. Texas was then a RepubHc. 

''Sir" — wrote Lafitte to the Commander of the 
American cruiser off the port of Galveston — "I am 
convinced that you are a cruiser of the navy, ordered 
here by your Government. I have, therefore, deemed 
it proper to inquire into the cause of your lying before 
this port without communicating your intention. I 
wish to inform you that the port of Galveston belongs 
to and is in the possession of the Republic of Texas, 
and was made a port of entry the 9th day of October, 
last. And, whereas the Supreme Congress of the said 
Republic have thought proper to appoint me as Gov- 
ernor of this place, in consequence of which, if you 
have any demands on said Government, you will please 
to send an officer with such demands, who will be 
treated with the greatest politeness. But, if you are 
ordered, or should attempt, to enter this port in a hos- 
tile manner, my oath and duty to the Government com- 
pel me to rebut your intentions at the expense of my 
life. 

" Yours very respectfully, 

"^J. Lafitte." 

But to this the American officer paid no attention. 
Instead, he attacked a band of Lafitte's followers, who 
had stationed themselves on an island near Barrataria 
with several cannon, — swearing that they would per- 
ish rather than surrender to any man. As they had 
committed piracy, — they were open to assault. 
Twenty were taken, tried at New Orleans, and hung. 



LAFITTE 367 

— the rest escaped into the cypress swamps, where it 
was impossible to arrest them. 

When Lafitte heard of this, he said with much feel- 
ing: 

" A war of extermination is to be waged against me. 
I, who have fought and bled for the United States. 
I who helped them to win the battle of New Orleans. 
My cruisers are to be swept from the sea. I must turn 
from Governor of Galveston, and privateer to pirate. 
Then — away — and let them catch me if they can." 

'Now comes the last phase of his career. Too bad 
that he could not have died honestly ! 

Procuring a large and fast-sailing brigantine, mount- 
ing sixteen guns, and having selected a crew of one 
hundred and sixty men, the desperate and dangerous 
Governor of Galveston set sail upon the sparkling 
waters of the Gulf, determined to rob all nations and 
neither to give quarter nor to receive it. 

But luck was against him. A British sloop-of-war 
was cruising in the Mexican Gulf, and, hearing that 
Lafitte, himself, was at sea. kept a sharp lookout at 
the masthead for the sails of the pirate. 

t)ne morning as an officer was sweeping the horizon 
with his glass he discovered a long, dark-looking ves- 
sel, low in the water : her sails as white as snow. 

" Sail off the port bow." cried he. " It's the Pirate, 
or else I'm a land-lubber." 

As the sloop-of-war could out-sail the corsair, before 
the wind, she set her studding-sails and crowded every 
inch of canvas in chase. Lafitte soon ascertained the 
character of his pursuer, and, ordering the awnings to 



368 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

be furled, set his big square-sail and shot rapidly 
through the water. But the breeze freshened and the 
sloop-of-war rapidly overhauled the scudding brigan- 
tine. In an hour's time she was within hailing distance 
and Lafitte was in a fight for his very life. 

Crash ! 

A cannon belched from the stern of the pirate and a 
ball came dangerously near the bow-sprit of the Eng- 
lishman. 

Crash! Crash! 

Other guns roared out their challenge and the iron 
fairly hailed upon the decks of the sloop-of-war ; kill- 
ing and wounding many of the crew^ But — silently 
and surely — she kept on until within twenty yards 
of the racing outlaw. 

Now was a deafening roar. A broadside howled 
above the dancing spray — it rumbled from the port- 
holes of the Englishman — cutting the fore-mast of 
the pirate in two; severing the jaws of the main-gafT; 
and sending great clods of rigging to the deck. Ten 
followers of Lafitte fell prostrate, but the great French- 
man was uninjured. 

A crash, a rattle, a rush, and the Englishman ran 
afoul of the foe — while — with a wild cheer, her 
sailors clambered across the starboard rails; cutlasses 
in the right hand, pistols in the left, dirks between 
their teeth. 

" Never give in. men ! " cried the King of Barra- 
taria. " You are now with Lafitte, who, as you have 
learned, does not know how to surrender." 

But the Britishers were in far superior numbers. 



LAPITTE 369 

Backwards — ever backwards — they drove the des- 
perate crew of the pirate ship. Two pistol balls struck 
Lafitte in the side which knocked him to the plank- 
ing; a grape-shot broke the bone of his right leg; he 
was desperate, dying, and fighting like a tiger. He 
groaned in the agony of despair. 

The deck was slippery with blood as the Captain of 
the boarders rushed upon the prostrate corsair tO' put 
him forever out of his way. While he aimed a blow 
a musket struck him in the temple, stretching him 
beside the bleeding Lafitte, who, raising himself upon 
one elbow, thrust a dagger at the throat of his assail- 
ant. 

But the tide of his existence was ebbing like a tor- 
rent ; his brain was giddy ; his aim faltered ; the point 
of the weapon descended upon the right thigh of the 
bleeding Englishman. Again the reeking steel was 
upheld; again the weakened French sea-dog plunged 
a stroke at this half-fainting assailant. 

The dizziness of death spread over the sight of the 
Monarch of the Gulf of Mexico. Down came the 
dagger into the left thigh of the Captain; listlessly; 
helplessly ; aimlessly ; and Lafitte — the robber of St. 
Malo — fell lifeless upon the rocking deck. His spirit 
went out amidst the hoarse and hollow cheers of the 
victorious Jack-tars of the clinging sloop-of-war. 

" The palmetto leaves are whispering, while the gentle trade- 
winds blow, 
And the soothing, Southern zephyrs, are sighing soft and low, 
As a silvery moonlight glistens, and the droning fire-flies glow, 
Comes a voice from out the Cypress, 
' Lights out ! Lafitte ! Heave ho ! ' " 



370 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 



THE PIRATE'S LAMENT 

I've been ploughin' down in Devonshire, 

My folks would have me stay, 

Where the wheat grows on th' dune side, 

Where th' scamperin' rabbits play. 

But th' smells come from th' ocean, 

An' th' twitterin' swallows wheel. 

As th' little sails bob landwards. 

To th' scurryin' sea-gulls' squeal. 

Oh, it's gold, gold, gold, 

That's temptin' me from here. 

An' it's rum, rum, rum, 

That makes me knozv no fear. 

When th' man-o-war is growlin'. 

As her for'ard swivels roar. 

As th' decks are black with wounded, 

An' are runnin' red with gore. 

I've been goin' to church o' Sundays, 
An' th' Parson sure can talk. 
He's been pleadin' for my soul. Sir, 
In Paradise to walk. 
An' I kind o' have th' shivers, 
Come creepin' down my spine. 
When th' choir breaks into music, 
While th' organ beats th' time. 

But it's gold, gold, gold, 

That glitters in my eye. 

An' it's rum, rum, rum. 

That makes me cheat an' lie, 

When th' slaver's in th' doldrums, 

Th' Heet is closin' round. 

An' th' Captain calls out, furious, 

" Notv, run th' hound aground!"- 

No matter how I farm, Sir, 
No matter how I hoe, 
Th' breezes from th' blue, Sir, 
Just kind uv make me glow. 



LAFITTE 371 



When th' clipper ships are racin*, 
An' their bellyin' sails go past, 
I just leave my team an' swear, Sir, 
I'll ship before th' mast. 

For it's gold, gold, gold, 

That makes me shiver, like. 

An' it's rum, rum, rum, 

That makes me cut an' strike. 

When th' boarders creep across th' rail. 

Their soljers all in line. 

An' their pistols spittin' lead. Sir, 

Like er bloomin' steam engine. 

So I'll kiss my plough good-bye, Sir, 
I'll throw my scythe away, 
An' I'm goin' to th' dock, Sir, 
Where th' ships are side th' quay. 
Shake out th' skull an' cross-bones. 
Take out th' signs of Marque, 
An' let's cut loose an' forage, 
In a rakish ten-gun barque. 



THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS 

A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain 

bold, 
And never forget the Commodore's debt, when the deeds of 

might are told ! 
They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck, when the 

great shells roar and screech — 
And never they fear, when the foe is near, to practice what they 

preach : 
But, off with your hat, and three times three, for the war-ship's 

true-blue sons. 
The men who batter the foe — my Boys — the men behind the 

guns. 

Oh, light and merry of heart are they, when they swing into port, 

once more. 
When, with more than enough of the " green-backed stuff," they 

start for their leave-o'-shore ; 
And you'd think, perhaps, that these blue-bloused chaps who loll 

along the street. 
Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce chap to eat — 
Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly 

stuns 
The modest worth of the sailor boys, — the lads who serve the 

guns. 

But, say not a word, till the shot is heard, that tells of the 

peace-blood's ebb. 
Till the long, low roar grows more and more, from the ships of 

the " Yank " and " Reb." 
Till over the deep the tempests sweep, of fire and bursting shell, 
And the very air is a mad Despair, in the throes of a living Hell : 
Then, down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the mid- 
day suns. 
You'll find the chaps who are giving the raps — the men behind 
the guns. 

— RooNEY (Adapted). 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 
DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE 

(1809 -1877) 



" Sit apart, write ; let them hear or let them forbear ; the 
written word abides, until, slowly and unexpectedly, and in 
widely sundered places, it has created its own church." 

— Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 

DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE 

(1809-1S77) 

" We started from Ole England fer to cripple up our foes, 
We started from Ole England fer to strike some rapid blows, 
So we coasted to the Azores where we ran a packet down, 
And then to the Bermudas, where we burned the Royal Crown, 
Then we scampered to Bahia, fer to sink the gay Tycoon, 
And to scuttle the Justina, before the Harvest Moon. 
We hit across the ocean to race by Cape Good Hope 
And in Madagascar channel towed Johanna with a rope. 
Away off at Sumatra, we had lots an' lots uv fun, 
When we winged the Pttlo Condor; but say, — we had a run, 
An' a pretty bit uv fightin', when we took the Emma Jane 
Off th' heated coast uv India, near th' bendin' sugar cane. 
Yes, we did some privateerin', as wuz privateerin', sure. 
An' we scuttled many a schooner, it wuz risky business pure. 
But — stranger — we'd be laughin', jest filled with persiflage. 
If we hadn't had a seance with that bloomin' Kcarsargc." 
— Song of the Chief Mate of the Alabama. — 1864. 

IT was off the east coast of South America. The 
year was 1864, and a little schooner — the Jus- 
tina — bobbed along, with the flag of the United 
States Government flying jauntily from her gaff. 

Suddenly there was a movement on deck. Men 
rushed hither and thither with some show of excite- 
ment. Glasses were brought out and raised, — 
smothered cries of excitement were mingled with or- 

375 



376 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

ders to trim sails. All eyes looked with suspicion and 
dismay at a long, graceful vessel which was seen 
approaching from the northward. 

" The Alabama!" cried one. 

" Yes, the cursed Alabama! " answered another. 
"We are lost!" 

On, on came the pursuing vessel; a cloud of black 
smoke rolling from her smoke-stack; her white sails 
bellying in the fresh breeze; for she was rigged like 
a barquentine, with a lean body, single smoke-stack, 
and a polished rifle-gun winking in the sun-rays upon 
her bow. On, on, she came, and then — puff! boom! 
— a single shot came dancing in front of the slow- 
moving schooner. 

"Pull down the colors!" shouted the Captain of 
the Jiistina. " We're done for ! " 

Down came the ensign of the United States, and 
the little schooner was lufTed so that she stood still. 
The Alabama ranged up alongside, a boat soon 
brought a crew of boarders, and, before many mo- 
ments, she was in the hands of Captain Raphael 
Semmes and his men. 

That evening the Alabama steamed southward, the 
crew of the Justina was on board, her rich cargo filled 
the hold, and a black curl of smoke and hissing flames 
marked where the proud, little merchantman had once 
bobbed upon the rolling water. Raphael Semmes was 
happy, for his work of destroying the commerce of the 
United States Navy had progressed far better than he 
had hoped. 

" Men! " cried he, "The cause of the Confederate 




RAPHAEL SEMMES. 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 377 

States of America was never brighter upon the ocean 
than now. Give three times three for Jeff. Davis — 
his soldiers and his sailors ! " 

A rousing cheer rose above the waves, and the 
proud privateer bounded onward upon her career of 
destruction and death. The Alabama was in the zenith 
of her power. 

The scene now shifts to the harbor of Cherbourg, 
upon the western coast of France. The Alabama lay 
there, — safely swinging at her anchor-chains within 
the break-water. She had come in to re-fit, for her 
bottom was much befouled by a long cruise, which 
had been, successful. Built at Birkenhead, England, 
for the Confederate States Government, she set sail 
in August, 1862; and had been down the coast of 
North and South America ; around the Cape of Good 
Hope to India, and back to the shores of France. 
Sixty-six vessels had fallen into her clutches, and of 
these fifty-two had been burned ; ten had been re- 
leased on bond ; one had been sold, and one set free. 
Truly she had had a marvellous trip. 

As she slumbered on — like a huge sea-turtle — a 
black cloud of smoke appeared above the break-water, 
and a low-bodied United States cruiser slowly steamed 
into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking for 
safe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of 
the little bay. 

Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the 
Confederate cruiser, and glasses were levelled at this 
vessel which carried the flag of opposition. 



378 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" She's stronger than we are," said one of the crew. 

Another grinned, 

" Look at her eleven-pounders," said he. " I see 
her name, now. She's the Kearsargc, and about our 
tonnage, but I reckon that she carries more men." 

Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below, 
and was examining the intruder with his glass. 

" Boys! " said he, " we've got to fight that ship." 

And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to 
be well pleased with this announcement. 

The Kearsargc, commanded by Captain John A. 
Winslow, had been lying at anchor in the Scheldt, of? 
Flushing, Holland, when a gun roared from the for- 
ward part of the ship, warning those officers who had 
gone ashore, to come on board. Steam was raised, 
and, as soon as all were collected on deck, the Captain 
read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, the Minister to 
France from the United States. It said : 

" The Alabama has arrived at Cherbourg. Come 
at once or she will escape you! " 

" I believe that we'll have an opportunity to fight 
her," said Captain Winslow. " So be prepared." 

At this, all of his sailors cheered wildly. 

The Kearsargc was a staunch craft; she was two 
hundred and thirty-two feet over all, with thirty- 
three feet of beam, and carried seven guns; two 
eleven inch pivots, smooth bore; one thirty-pound rifle, 
and four light thirty-two pounders. Her crew num- 
bered one hundred and sixty-three men. The sleep- 
ing Alabama had but one hundred and forty-nine souls 
on board, and eight guns : one sixty-eight pounder 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 379 

pivot rifle, smooth bore; one one hundred-pounder 
pivot, and six heavy thirty-two pounders. So, you 
see, that the two antagonists were evenly matched, 
with the superior advantage of the numbers of men on 
the Kearsarge offset by the extra guns of her oppo- 
nent. 

Most of the officers upon the Kearsarge were from 
the merchant service, and, of the crew, only eleven 
were of foreign birth. Most of the officers upon the 
Alabama had served in the navy of the United States; 
while nearly all of her crew were either English, 
Irish, or Welsh. A few of the gunners had been 
trained aboard the Excellent: a British training ship 
in Portsmouth Harbor. Her Captain — Raphael 
Semmes — was once an officer in the navy of the 
United States. He had served in the Mexican War, 
but had joined the Southern cause, as he was a 
Marylander. He was an able navigator and sea- 
man. 

The Kearsarge cruised about the port of Cher- 
bourg, poked her bows nearly into the break-water, 
and then withdrew. The French neutrality law would 
only allow a foreign vessel to remain in a harbor for 
twenty-four hours. 

"Will she come out?" was the question now upon 
every lip aboard the Kearsarge. " Will she come out 
and fight? Oh, just for one crack at this destroyer 
of our commerce ! " 

But she did not come out, and the Kearsarge beat 
around the English Channel in anxious suspense. 

Several days later Captain Winslow went ashore 



380 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

and paid a visit to the United States Commercial 
Agent. 

" That beastly pirate will not fight," he thought. 
" All she wants to do is to run away." 

Imagine how his eyes shone when he was handed 
the following epistle! 

" C. S. S. Alabama, Cherbourg, June 14th, 1864. 
" To A. BoNFiLS, Esqr., Cherbourg; 

" Sir : — I hear that you were informed by the 
United States Consul that the Kcarsarge was to come 
to this port solely for the prisoners landed by me, and 
that she was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire 
you to say to the U. S. Consul that my intention is 
to fight the Kearsarge as soon as I can make the 
necessary arrangements. I hope these will not detain 
me more than until to-morrow evening, or after the 
morrow morning at furthest. I beg she will not de- 
part before I am ready to go out. 

" I have the honor to be, very respectfully, 
" Your obedient servant, 

" R. Semmes, Captain." 

" Ha! Ha! " chuckled Winslow. " We're in for it, 
now. Hurray ! " and he hastened back to his ship to 
spread the glad tidings. 

" My boys ! " said he to his crew. " It is probable 
that the two ships will engage on parallel lines, and, 
if defeated, the Alabama will seek for neutral waters. 
It is necessary, therefore, that we begin this action 
several miles from the break-water. The Alabama 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 381 

must believe that she can win, or she would not fight 
us, for, if we sink her, she cannot be replaced by the 
Confederate Government. As for ourselves, let us 
never give up, and — if we sink — let us go down with 
the flag flying ! " 

"Hear! Hear!" cried all. "We're with you, 
Captain. Never give up the ship! " 

"Clean decks, boys!" continued brave Winslow. 
" Get everything ship-shape for the coming affair, for 
we're in for as tight a little fight as e'er you entered 
upon." 

Preparations were immediately made for battle, but 
no Alabama appeared. 

Thursday passed; Friday came; the Kearsarge 
waited in the channel with ports down; guns pivoted 
to starboard ; the whole . battery loaded ; and shell, 
grape, and canister ready to use in any method of 
attack or defence, — but no Alabama appeared. A 
French pilot-boat drifted near, and the black-eyed 
skipper cried out, 

" You feJlers look out for ze Alabama. She take 
in much coal. Whew ! She take much of ze captured 
stuff ashore. Whew ! She scrub ze deck. Whew 1 
She put ze sailors to ze business of sharpening ze cut- 
lass and ze dirk. Whew ! You look out for ze great 
privateer ! Whew ! " 

Captain Winslow only smiled. 

" Zey have ze big feast," continued the Frenchman. 
" Zey dr-e-e-nk ze wine. Zey stan' on ze chairs and 
zey say, 'We will seenk ze Yankee dog.' Ta done! 
Zey call you ze dog I " 



382 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

And still Captain Winslow smiled. But, next day, 
his smile turned to a frown. 

It was Sunday, the nineteenth day of June. The 
weather was beautiful ; the atmosphere was somewhat 
hazy; the wind was light; and there was little sea. 
At ten o'clock the Kearsargc was drifting near a buoy 
about three miles eastward from the entrance of Cher- 
bourg break-water. Her decks had been newly holy- 
stoned ; the brass work had been cleaned ; the guns 
polished, and the crew had on their Sunday clothes. 
They had been inspected, and dismissed — in order to 
attend divine service. 

At 1. 20 a cry rang out : 

" She comes ! " 

The bell was tolling for prayers. 

" The Alabama ! The Alabama! She's moving, 
and heading straight for us! " 

All rushed to the deck; the drum beat to quarters. 
Captain Winslow laid aside his prayer-book, seized 
his trumpet, ordered the boat about, and headed sea- 
ward. The ship was cleared for action and the bat- 
tery was pivoted to starboard. 

Yes, she was coming! 

From the western entrance of the safe, little French 
seaport steamed the long-bodied, low-hulled priva- 
teer: her rakish masts bending beneath the spread of 
canvas : her tall funnel belching sepia smoke. A 
French iron-clad frigate — the Conronne — accom- 
panied her, flying the pennant of the Commander-of- 
the-Port. Tn her wake plodded a tiny fore-and-aft- 
rigged steamer-yacht : the Deerhonnd, showing the 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 383 

flag of the Royal Mersey (British) Yacht Club. The 
frigate — having convoyed the Confederate privateer 
to the limit of the French waters (three marine miles 
from the coast) — put down her lielm and ploughed 
back into port. The steam yacht continued on. and 
remained near the scene of action. 

As the Alabama had started upon her dash into the 
open, Captain Semmes had mounted a gun-carriage, 
and had cried, 

" Officers and Seamen of the Alabama: 

" You have at length another opportunity of meet- 
ing the enemy — the first that has been presented to 
you since you sank the Hatteras! In the meantime 
you have been all over the world, and it is not too 
much to say that you have destroyed, and driven for 
protection under neutral flags, one-half of the enemy's 
commerce, which, at the beginning of the war, cov- 
ered every sea. This is an achievement of which you 
may well be proud, and a grateful country will not 
be unmindful of it. The name of your ship has be- 
come a household word wherever civilization extends ! 
Shall that name be tarnished by defeat? The thing 
is impossible! Remember that you are in the English 
Channel, the theatre of so much of the naval glory 
of our race, and that the eyes of all Europe are, at 
this moment, upon you. The flag that floats over 
you is that of a young Republic, which bids defiance 
to her enemies whenever and wherever found ! Show 
the world that you know how to uphold it! Go to 
your quarters! " 

A wild yell had greeted these stirring expressions. 



384 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

The shore was black with people, for the word had 
been passed around that the two sea-warriors were to 
grapple in deadly embrace. Even a special train had 
come from Paris to bring the sober townsfolk to 
Cherbourg, where they could view the contest. They 
were chattering among themselves, like a flock of mag- 
pies. 

" Voila ! " said a fair damsel, whose eyes were fairly 
shining with excitement. " Oh, I hope zat ze beeg 
gray fellow weel win." 

She meant the Alabama, for the Confederates 
dressed in that sober color. 

" Zis ees ze naval Waterloo ! " whispered a veteran 
of the Crimean War. 

It was 10.50 o'clock. The Kearsarge had been 
steaming out to sea, but now she wheeled. She was 
seven miles from shore and one and one-quarter miles 
from her opponent. She steered directly for her, as 
if to ram her and crush through her side. The Ala- 
bama sheered off and presented her starboard battery. 
The Kearsarge came on, rapidly, and — at 10.57 was 
about eighteen hundred yards from her enemy — then 
— Crash! Roar! A broadside thundered from the 
Confederate privateer, while the solid shot screamed 
through the rigging of the Yankee man-of-war. 

On! On! came Captain Winslow's gallant craft, 
while a second and a third broadside crashed into her. 
The rigging tore and swayed, but she was little in- 
jured. She was now within nine hundred yards. 

" Sheer! Sheer! " cried the Union Commander. 

The Kearsarge spun off and broke her long silence 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 385 

with the starboard battery. Crash! Roar! the shells 
pounded around the great privateer, and, with a full 
head of steam, the corsair of the Southern Confed- 
eracy swept onward. Crash! Roar! she answered 
with shell, and the bursting iron shivered the fore- 
mast of her doughty opponent. 

Captain Winslow was fearful that the enemy would 
make for the shore, so he spun over his helm to port 
in the endeavor to run under the Alabama's stern and 
rake her. But she sheered off, kept her broadside 
to him, and pounded away like a pugilist. The ships 
were a quarter of a mile (440 yards) away from each 
other. They were circling around in a v^nde arc, plug- 
ging away as fast as they could load. The spectators 
cheered, for it was as good a show as they had ever 
witnessed. 

" Eet ees fine ! " said the veteran of the Crimea. 
" Eet remin' me of ze battaile at Balaklava ! " 

Suddenly a wild cheer rose from the deck of the 
United States cruiser. A shot had struck the spanker- 
gaff on the enemy and her ensign had come down on 
the run. 

" Hurray ! " shouted the seamen. " That means 
we'll win, sure! " 

The fallen ensign re-appeared at the mizzen, while 
firing from the Alabama became rapid and wild. The 
gunners of the Kearsarge had been cautioned against 
shooting without direct aim, and had been told to point 
their heavy guns below, rather than above the water- 
line. 

Captain Winslow was busy with his orders. 



386 FAMOUS PKIVATEERSMEN 

" Clear the enemy's deck with the light guns ! " he 
shouted. " Sink the Confederate with the heavy 
iron!" 

Cheer succeeded cheer from his sailors. Caps were 
thrown into the air, or overboard. Jackets were 
tossed aside. Now, certain of victory, the men were 
shouting wildly, as each projectile took efifect. 

" That's a good one ! " 

" Down, boys, down ! " 

" Give her another like the last ! " 

" Now — we have her ! " 

The vessels continued to swing around each other 
in wide circles, and — at this moment — a sixty-eight 
pound Blakely shell passed through the starboard bul- 
warks of the Kearsarge below the main rigging, ex- 
ploded on the quarter-deck, and wounded three of 
the crew of the after pivot-gun. The three unfor- 
tunate men were speedily taken below, but the act was 
done so quietly, that — at the termination of the fight 
— a large number of the crew were unaware that any 
of their comrades were injured. 

Two shots now crashed through the port-holes oc- 
cupied by the thirty-two pounders; one exploded in 
the hammock-netting; the other shrieked through the 
opposite port ; yet no one was hurt. Fire blazed from 
the deck; the alarm calling for fire-quarters was 
sounded, and the men who had been detailed for this 
emergency put it out. The rest stayed at the guns. 

The eleven-inch shells were doing terrible execution 
upon the quarter-deck of the Alabama. Three of 
them crashed into the eight-inch pivot-gun port; the 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 387 

first swept off the forward part of the gun's crew; 
the second killed one man and wounded several others ; 
the third struck the breast of the gun-carriage and 
spun around on the deck until one of the men picked 
it up and threw it overboard. The ship was careening 
heavily to starboard, while the decks were covered 
with the dead and dying. A shell plunged into the 
coal bunker and a dense cloud of coal dust arose. 
Crippled and torn, the hulking privateer began to 
settle by the stern. Her guns still spat and growled, 
and her broadsides were going wild. She was fast 
weakening. 

" Any one who silences that after pivot-gun will 
get one hundred dollars ! " cried Captain Semmes, as 
he saw the fearful accuracy of its fire. 

Crash! a whole broadside from the privateer spat 
at this particular piece. It was in vain. 

Around and around circled the belching Kearsarge. 
Seven times she had swooped about the weakening 
gladiator of the sea, and her fire was more and more 
accurate. She was like a great eagle closing in for 
a deaththrust. Captain Semmes was in a desperate 
situation. 

"Hoist the fore-try-sail and jibs!" he called out 
above the din of cannon. " Head for the French 
coast ! " 

As the sailors scrambled to obey, the Alabama pre- 
sented her port battery to the Kearsarge. She showed 
gaping sides and only two guns were bearing. 

At this moment the chief engineer came up on the 
deck of the privateer. 



388 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" The fires are all out and the engines will not 
work ! " he reported to Captain Semmes. 

The doughty sea-man turned to his chief executive 
officer, Mr. Kell. 

" Go below, sir," he shouted, *' and see how long the 
ship can float ! " 

In a few moments the sailor had returned from his 
inspection. 

" Captain ! " cried he, saluting. " She will not stay 
on the sea for ten minutes." 

The face of the Confederate was ashen, as he an- 
swered, 

" Then, sir, cease firing, shorten sail, and haul down 
the colors. It will never do in this Nineteenth Cen- 
tury for us to go down with the decks covered with 
our gallant wounded ! " 

As he ceased speaking, a broadside roared from the 
side of his sinking vessel. The ensign of the Kear- 
sarge had been stopped (rolled up and tied with a 
piece of twine) and, as a shell crashed through her 
rigging, a piece hit the flag-halyards — parted them — 
and unstopped the flag. It unfurled itself gallantly 
in the breeze, and, as its beautiful striping waved aloft, 
the sailors upon the deck gave a loud cheer, for this 
was the omen of Victory. 

At this moment, two of the junior officers upon the 
Alabama swore that they would never surrender, and, 
in a spirit of mutiny, rushed to the two port guns 
and opened fire upon the Union vessel. 

" He is playing us a trick ! " shouted Winslow. 
" Give him another broadside ! 



RAPHAEL SEMMES 389 

Again the shot and shell went crashing through 
the sides of the Confederate cruiser. The Kearsarge 
was laid across her bows for raking, and, in a posi- 
tion to use grape and canister. 

A white flag was then shown over the stem of the 
Alabama and her ensign was half-masted; Union 
down. 

" Cease firing ! " shouted Captain Winslow. 

The great fight was over. It had lasted one hour 
and two minutes. 

Chugcty, plug, splash! The boats were lowered 
from the Alabama, and her Master's mate rowed to 
the Kearsarge, with a few of his wounded. 

" We are sinking," said he. " You must come and 
help us ! " 

" Does Captain Semmes surrender his ship ? " asked 
Winslow. 

" Yes ! " 

" All right. Then I'll help you ! " 

Fullam grinned. 

" May I return with this boat and crew in order 

rescue the drowning?" he asked. "I pledge you 
my word of honor that I will then come on board and 
surrender." 

Captain Winslow granted his request. 

With less generosity, the victorious Commander 
could have detained the officers and men, supplied their 
places with his own sailors, and offered equal aid to 
the distressed. His generosity was abused. Fullam 
pulled to the midst of the drowning; rescued several 
officers; went to the yacht Deerhound, and cast his 



390 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

boat adrift; leaving a number of men struggling in 
the water. 

The Alabama was settling fast. 

"All hands overboard!" cried Mr. Kell. "Let 
every man grab a life-preserver, or a spar." 

As the sailors plunged into the sea. Captain Semmes 
dropped his sword into the waves and leaped outward, 
with a life-preserver around his waist. Kell followed, 
while the Alabama launched her bows high in the air, 
and — graceful, even in her death throes — plunged 
stern-foremost into the deep. A sucking eddy of 
foam, spars, and wreckage marked where once had 
floated the gallant ship. 

Thus sank the terror of the merchantmen — riddled 
through and through — and no cheer arose as her bat- 
tered hulk went down in forty-five fathoms of water. 
Her star had set. 

The Dccrhonnd had kept about a mile to windward 
of the two contestants, but she now steamed towards 
the mass of living heads, which dotted the surface of 
the sea. Her two boats were lowered, and Captain 
Semmes was picked up and taken aboard, with forty 
others. She then edged to the leeward and steamed 
rapidly away. 

An officer quickly approached Captain Winslow. 

" Better fire a shot at the yacht," he said, saluting. 
" She's got Captain Semmes aboard and will run off 
with him." 

Winslow smiled. 

" It's impossible," said he. " She's simply coming 
around! " 



I 



EAPHAEL SEMMES 391 

But the Deerhound kept on. 

Another officer approached the commander of the 
Kearsargc. 

" That beastly yacht is carrying off our men," said 
he. " Better bring her to, Captain ! " 

" No EngHshman who carries the flag of the 
Royal Yacht Squadion can so act ! " Winslow re- 
plied, — somewhat pettishly. " She's simply coming 
around." 

But she never " came around," and Captain Raphael 
Semmes was soon safe upon British soil. He had 
fought a game fight. The superior gunnery of the 
sailors of the Kearsargc had been too much for him. 
Nine of his crew were dead and twenty-one wounded, 
while the Kearsargc had no one killed and but 
three wounded; one of whom died shortly after- 
wards. 

Thus, — the lesson is : 

If you want to win : Learn how to shoot 
straight ! 

Captain Raphael Semmes died quietly at Mobile, 
Alabama, August 30th, 1877. His ill-fated Alabama 
had inflicted a loss of over seven million dollars upon 
the commerce of the United States. 

A number of wise men met, many years afterwards, 
in Geneva, Switzerland, and decided, that, as the Brit- 
ish Government had allowed this vessel to leave their 
shores, when warned by the American minister of her 
character and intention to go privateering, it should 
therefore pay for all the vessels which the graceful 



392 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

cruiser had destroyed. England had broken the neu- 
trahty laws. 

John Bull paid up. 
But, 

— Boys — 
it 

hurt! 



EL CAPITAN 

'TTIHERE was a Captain-General who ruled in 
I Vera Cruz, 

And what we used to hear of him was always 
evil news : 
He was a pirate on the sea — a robber on the shore, 
The Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 

" There was a Yankee skipper who round about did 

roam; 
His name was Stephen Folger, — Nantucket was his 

home: 
And having sailed to Vera Cruz, he had been skinned 

full sore 
By the Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 

" But having got away alive, though all his cash was 

gone, 
He said, ' If there is vengeance, I will surely try it on ! 
And I do wish that I may be hung, — if I don't clear 

the score 
With Sefior Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.* 

" He shipped a crew of seventy men — well-armed 

men were they, 
And sixty of them in the hold he darkly stowed away; 

393 



394 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

And, sailing back to Vera Cruz, was sighted from the 

shore 
By the Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 

" With twenty-five soldados, he came on board, so 

pleased, 
And said ' Maldito, Yankee, — again your ship is 

seized. 
How many sailors have you got ? ' Said Folger, ' Ten 

— no more,' 
To the Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 

" ' But come into my cabin and take a glass of wine, 

I do suppose, as usual, I'll have to pay a fine : 

I've got some old Madeira, and we'll talk the matter 

o'er — 
My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.' 

" And, as over the Madeira the Captain-General 

boozed, 
It seemed to him as if his head were getting quite 

confused ; 
For, it happened that some morphine had travelled 

from ' the Store ' 
To the glass of Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 

" ' What is it makes the vessel roll ? What sounds are 

these I hear? 
It seems as if the rising waves were beating on my 

ear!' 



EL CAPITAN 395 

' Oh, it is the breaking of the surf — just that, and 

nothing more. 
My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador ! ' 

" The Governor was in a sleep, which muddled up his 
brains ; 

The seventy men had caught his ' gang ' and put them 
all in chains ; 

And, when he woke the following day, he could not 
see the shore, 

For he was away out on the sea — the Don San Sal- 
vador. 

" ' Now do you see the yard-arm — and understand 

the thing? ' 
Said rough, old Folger, viciously — ' for this is where 

you'll swing, 
Or forty thousand dollars you shall pay me from your 

store, 
My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador ! ' 

" The Captain he took up a pen — the order he did 

sign — 
* O my, but Senor Yankee : You charge great guns 

for wine ! ' 
Yet it was not until the draft was paid, they let him 

go ashore, 
El Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador. 



396 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN 

" The greater sharp will some day find another sharper 

wit; 
It always makes the Devil laugh to see a biter bit ; 
It takes two Spaniards, any day, to comb a Yankee 

o'er — 
Even two like Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador." 



RETROSPECT 

THE curtain falls, the plays are done, 
To roar of shell and shock of gun; 
The scuttled shipping bobs and sways, 
In grime and muck of shallow bays. 
The tattered ensigns mould'ring lie, 
As diving otters bark and cry ; 
While — in the lee of crumbling piers. 
The rotting hulk its decking rears. 
Gray, screaming kestrels wheel and sheer, 
Above the wasted steering gear. 
In moulding kelp and mackerel's sheen, 
The blighted log-book hides unseen. 
Red flash the beams of northern blaze. 
Through beaded clouds of Elmo's haze; 
While dim, unkempt, the ghostly crew 
Float by, and chant the lesson true! 

Sons of the fog-bound Northland; sons of the blind- 
ing seas. 

If ye would cherish the trust which your fathers left, 

Ye must strive — 3'^e must work — without ease. 

Strong have your good sires battled, oft have your 
fathers bled, 

If ye would hold up the flag which they've never let 
sag, 

397 



398 FAMOUS PRIVATEERSME:NI 

Ye must pkd — ye must creep where they've led. 

The shimmering- icebergs call you; the plunging 
screw-drums scream, 

By shallowing shoals they haul you, to the beat of the 
walking beam. 

The twisting petrels chatter, as ye drift by the waiting 
fleet. 

In your towering grim, gray Dreadnought, — a king 
who sneers at defeat. 

While the silken pennons flutter; as the frozen hal- 
yards strain ; 

Comes the growling old-world mutter, the voice of 
the million slain : 

Keep to your manly war games; keep to your zvar- 

rior's play. 
Though the dove of peace is dancing to the sounding 

truce harp's lay. 
Arbitrate if you have to; smooth it o'er if you must. 
But, he prepared for battle, to parry the zuar king's 

thrust. 
Don't foster the chip on the shoulder; don't hasten the 

slap in the face. 
But, burnish your sword, ere you're older, — the blade 

of the ancient race. 
Hark to the deeds of your fathers; cherish the stories 

I've told. 
Then — go and do like, if you have to — and die — 

like a Hero of Old. 



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